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LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  CO.,  Boston 


NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


BY 

J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 


REVISED  EDITION- 
WITH  A  CHAPTER  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,    LEE   &   SHEPARD   CO. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857,  by 

J.  T.   TROWBKIDGE, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


Copyright,  1886, 
BY  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE. 

Copyright,  1895, 
BY  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE. 


All  rights  reserved. 


TO    THE    MEMORY 


LEWIS     BAXTER     MONROE 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

A  CHAPTER  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 1 

I.     THE  MOUTH  OF  WILD  RIVER 21 

II.     THE  STRANGER  AND  THE  STORM 33 

III.  A  VERMONT  FARMHOUSE 36 

IV.  SUNDAY  MORNING 47 

V.     AN  EVENING  IN  MOIULE 57 

VI.     GRANDMOTHER  RIGGLESTY 64 

VII.     THE  DUNHURYS 86 

VIII.     DOWN  THE  MOUNTAIN 101 

IX.     HECTOR  AND  CHARLOTTE 110 

X.     MRS.  RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE 125 

XI.     DANGEROUS  SYMPTOMS 136 

XII.     THE  WEDDING 141 

XIII.  THE  VISIT  AND  THE  EXCURSION 152 

XIV.  THE  HUNTERS 162 

XV.     THE  LIFTING  OF  THE  VEIL 170 

XVI.     FIGHTING  FIRE 175 

XVII.     THE  MORNING  AFTER 180 

XVI II.     PARTINGS 185 

XIX.     THE  DOVE  AND  THE  SERPENT 192 

XX.  "Two  NEGATIVES  DESTROY  EACH  OTHER''       .     .  204 

XXI.     BIM'S  DISCOVERIES        212 

v 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII.  MORNINGS  IN  MONTREAL 220 

XXIII.  PROSPECTS 231 

XXIV.  THE  JUDGMENT 241 

XXY.  TOWARDS  MIDNIGHT 246 

XXYI.  MOTHER  AND  SON 254 

XXVII.  THE  FOREST  ROAD 258 

XXVIII.  THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW 263 

XXIX.  THE  GREENWICH  FAMILY 270 

XXX.  AN  UNWELCOME  GUEST 2*76 

XXXI.  BROTHER  AND  SISTER 283 

XXXII.  FLIGHT 289 

XXXIII.  HOUSELESS 299 

XXXIV.  THE  NIGHT 311 

XXXV.  HECTOR'S  JOURNEY 317 

XXXVI.  THE  INUNDATION 333 

XXXVII.  RUMORS 344 

XXXVIII.  MR.  RUKELY'S  GREAT  SERMON 351 

XXXIX.  How  DICKSON  TOOK  LEAVE 364 

XL.  MR.  CRUMLETT'S  SPECULATIONS 371 

XLI.  CONFESSIONS 383 

XLII.  THE  WILDERNESS 411 

XLIII.  THE  LAW  TAKES  ITS  COURSE 428 

XLIV.  "  BY  THE  ONE  ETERNAL  LAW  " 439 

XLV.  RETRIBUTION 443 

XL VI.  CLOSING  SCENES          450 


A   CHAPTER   OF   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

SHOWING    HOW    THIS    BOOK    CAME    TO    BE    WRITTEN 

FEW  of  the  later  generation  of  readers  will  remember 
the  fugitive  slave  cases  that  agitated  the  country  about  the 
middle  of  the  present  century,  one  of  which,  that  of  Anthony 
Pmrns,  shook  the  conservative  town  of  Boston  as  by  a  moral 
earthquake.  To  this  affair  especially,  and  to  two  or  three 
similar  cases,  I  owed,  in  a  large  measure,  the  powerful  im 
pulse  that  urged  me  to  the  writing  of  an  anti-slavery  novel. 
How  I  was  influenced  by  them  ;  how,  almost  in  spite  of  my 
self,  and  against  my  own  literary  taste  and  judgment,  I 
was  led  to  construct  a  story  with  the  one  tabooed  and 
abominated  subject  craftily  concealed  (as  was  charged  at 
the  time)  in  the  very  heart  of  it,  a  surprise  to  be  exploded 
like  a  bombshell  in  the  face  of  unsuspecting  readers ; 
how  I  came  to  commit  this  atrocity,  if  it  was  one,  I  shall 
endeavor  to  show  in  this  chapter  of  reminiscences. 

I  early  imbibed  a  prejudice  against  any  agitation  of  the 
slavery  question.  In  the  small  community  in  western 
New  York  where  I  was  brought  up,  I  knew,  in  my  boy 
hood,  only  two  outspoken  abolitionists.  One  of  these  was 
our  good  Presbyterian  minister,  Mr.  Sedgwick,  a  worthy 
man  with  an  unfortunate  hobby,  as  it  was  deemed,  and  as 
perhaps  it  was.  His  hearers  were  all  good  Whigs  and  Dem 
ocrats,  who  paid  him  for  preaching  sound  doctrinal  dis 
courses,  and  did  not  care  to  be  reminded,  Sunday  after 

1 


.  A   CHAPTER 


OF  'AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Sunday,  that  they,  as  members  of  the  two  great  political 
parties  of  the  day,  were  wickedly  winking  at  a  wrong  com 
mitted  in  States  some  hundreds  of  miles  off.  Whatever 
the  subject  of  his  sermon,  he  was  apt  to  introduce  his 
delenda  est  Carthago  somewhere  in  the  course  of  it ;  and  he 
was  particularly  vehement  in  his  arguments  against  those 
who  endeavored  to  prove  by  the  Bible  that  slavery  was 
right.  Our  other  abolitionist  was  a  somewhat  eccentric 
young  man,  who  taught  our  district  school  two  or  three 
winters,  and  taught  it  very  well.  But,  as  he  was  known  to 
entertain  erratic  ideas  on  various  subjects,  and  had  been 
heard  to  declare  that,  "  even  if  the  Bible  said  slavery  was 
right,  that  didn't  make  it  so,"  his  advocacy  was  not  of  a 
kind  to  help  an  unpopular  cause.  In  short,  he  didn't 
count;  and  Mr.  Sedgwick  stood  bravely  alone,  our  sole, 
persistent,  in-season-and-out-of-season,  rabid  abolitionist. 

I  never  was  a  good  listener  to  sermons  of  any  sort,  unless 
they  happened  to  be  interesting ;  and,  when  imprisoned  in 
the  bare  old  meeting-house,  I  was  usually  thinking  so  in 
tently  of  other  things,  that  I  would  hardly  be  aware  of  the 
unwelcome  topic  being  hammered  on  the  ministerial  anvil, 
until  I  saw  my  father  begin  to  fidget  in  his  seat,  and  the 
frown  to  gather  on  his  brow.  Often  the  cloud  would 
remain  until  dispelled  by  the  genial  influence  of  the  late 
Sunday  dinner.  Once  when  I  had  been  left  at  home,  and 
went  to  open  the  dooryard  gate  for  the  one-horse  family 
wagon,  as  it  turned  up  to  it,  I  noticed  the  ominous  scowl, 
and  said,  loud  enough  to  be  heard  :  — 

"I  guess  Sedgwick  has  been  pounding  slavery  on  his 
pulpit  cushion  again  to-day." 

"  Another  of  his  everlasting  abolition  harangues  ! "  ex 
claimed  my  father,  as  he  got  down  from  the  wagon  at  the 


A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  3 

door.  "I  wish  I  had  some  sort  of  patent,  long-action, 
quick-pressure  gag  to  spring  on  him  the  instant  he  speaks 
the  word  slavery" 

And  yet  he  was  a  hater  of  all  kinds  of  oppression,  and 
one  of  the  most  scrupulously  just  men  I  ever  knew. 

"  Wrong  ?  "  he  would  say.  "  Of  course  it's  wrong ;  noth 
ing  under  heaven  can  make  it  right  for  one  human  being  to 
own  another.  But  what's  the  use  of  fighting  it  here  at  the 
North  ?  Leave  it  where  it  is,  and  it  will  die  of  itself. 
Any  serious  attempt  to  abolish  it  will  bring  on  civil  war, 
and  break  up  the  Union." 

He  often  made  use  of  these  stereotype  words ;  but  he 
would  add,  "I'm  opposed  to  the  spread  of  it;  we've  a  right 
to  take  that  stand,"  little  dreaming  that,  in  less  than 
twenty  years,  a  determined  "  stand,"  taken  by  the  North 
against  the  extension  of  slavery,  would  bring  on  attempted 
disunion,  and  the  civil  war  he  dreaded. 

So  the  subject  of  abolition  became  to  me  a  disagreeable 
one,  and  continued  so  after  I  went  to  Boston  in  1848,  then 
in  my  twenty-first  year.1  I  did  not  rind  it  popular  in 
that  highly  conservative  city.  The  followers  of  Garrison 
and  Phillips  were  few ;  society  looked  upon  them  as  dan 
gerous  fanatics,  and  the  very  name  of  abolitionist  was  cov 
ered  with  an  opprobium  that  clung  to  it  long  after  the 
course  of  political  events  had  justified  their  moral  convic- 

1  Since  this  was  written,  a  letter  has  been  returned  to  me,  which  I 
wrote  from  Lockport,  N.  Y.,  to  a  sister  in  Illinois,  in  January,  184."), 
when  I  was  seventeen  years  old.  In  it  I  speak  of  competing  for  a  prize 
offered  by  the  Lockport  Courier,  for  the  best  poetical  New  Year's  Ail- 
dress  to  its  patrons.  "  I  called  at  the  office  in  a  few  days,  and  was  told 
by  the  editor  that  mine  was  the  best  they  had  received,  but  that  there 
was  almost  too  much  anti-slaver;/  about  it,  and  not  enough  Whii/r/itsin.'' 
I  do  not  remember  a  line  of  the  address,  and  am  surprised  to  find  that 
the  abhorred  subject  cropped  out  in  it. 


4  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

tions.  The  slave  power  itself  was  fast  doing  more  than 
its  most  relentless  enemies  could  accomplish  towards  awak 
ening,  not  Boston  only,  but  all  the  North,  to  the  insatiable- 
ness  of  its  greed  and  the  danger  of  its  aggressions.  Its 
reign  was  a  reign  of  terror.  Good  people  who,  like  my 
father,  quieted  their  consciences  with  the  cry,  "Let  it 
alone !  leave  it  where  it  is  !  don't  agitate  the  subject ! " 
found  that  it  would  not  be  let  alone,  that  it  would  not  rest 
where  it  was,  that  it  was  itself  the  great  agitator,  which 
would  not  cease  its  menaces  until  it  could  flaunt  its  black 
flag  over  the  whole  abject  Union. 

The  enactment,  in  1850,  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  turn 
ing  all  the  North  into  a  hunting-ground  for  escaping  human 
chattels,  roused  a  spirit  of  resistance  in  thousands  who  had 
hitherto  remained  indifferent,  or  timidly  submissive,  to  the 
encroachments  of  the  monster.  It  made  an  "  anti-slavery 
fanatic"  of  me.  How  dangerous  I  was  I  did  not  myself 
suspect,  until  Mr.  Ben :  Perley  Poore,  then  publishing  his 
Sentinel  in  Boston,  went  off  to  Washington,  and  left  me  in 
charge  of  the  paper.  He  had  been  gone  a  week  or  two, 
when  something  on  the  subject  of  Northern  abolitionism 
in  one  of  our  Southern  exchanges  provoked  me  to  reply.  I 
meant  my  article  to  be  dispassionate  and  judicial ;  and, 
when  it  was  written  and  carefully  revised,  I  couldn't  see 
anything  in  it  that  should  give  offence  to  right-thinking 
readers.  So  I  printed  it.  Then  the  deluge !  I  hardly 
knew  what  I  had  done,  when  my  good  friend  Poore  came 
hurrying  back  from  Washington,  and  walked  most  unex 
pectedly  into  the  Sentinel  office  one  morning,  where  he 
found  me  seated  at  the  desk,  unconscious  as  a  cherub  of 
any  wrong-doing.  When  I  expressed  surprise  at  seeing 
him  so  soon,  he  said  he  thought  it  was  time  for  him  to 


A    CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  5 

come  and  look  after  his  editor.  Always  genial  and  kind, 
he  yet  made  me  feel  extremely  uncomfortable  when  he 
added  :  — 

"  Good  heavens,  Trowbridge  !  what  were  you  thinking  of, 
to  turn  the  Sentinel  into  an  abolition  paper  ?  " 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  look  at  it  ?  "  asked  the  cherub. 

"  That's  the  way  subscribers  will  look  at  it,"  he  replied. 

A  good  deal  nettled,  I  said,  "  Then  perhaps  you  would 
like  me  to  leave  the  paper  ?  " 

"  Leave  the  paper  ?  •"  he  echoed,  with  about  the  bitterest 
laugh  I  ever  heard  from  his  lips.  "  Print  another  such 
article,  and  the  paper  will  leave  us  !  " 

He  went  on  to  give  a  grimly  humorous  account  of  the  sen 
sation  my  poor  little  screed  created  in  Washington,  where 
he  had  many  friends  and  subscribers,  all  of  pro-slavery 
sentiments ;  and  of  his  sudden  haste  to  leave  that  city. 

"  Of  course,'1  he  added,  "  I  laid  it  all  to  the  boy  I  had 
left  in  the  office." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "what  was  there  about  the  boy's  article 
they  could  reasonably  object  to  ?  " 

He  was  generous  enough  to  reply,  "  Nothing,  in  my 
opinion.  Every  word  of  it  is  true  enough.  And  you  may 
think  it  strange  that  a  man  can't  print  in  his  own  paper 
what  he  thinks  on  a  great  public  question,  like  slavery; 
but  that  is  a  fact.  We  shall  see." 

And  we  did  see.  Angry  protestations  from  subscribers 
were  already  lying  unopened  on  his  desk.  More  came  in, 
from  North  and  South  alike  ;  and  one  of  our  South  Carolina 
exchanges  did  me  the  honor  to  answer  my  article  with  an 
insolent  threat  of  secession,  —  an  old  threat  from  that 
State,  even  in  those  days,  and  not  altogether  an  idle  one, 
as  was  so  lone:  believed. 


6  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Mr.  Poore  was  too  good  a  friend  to  discharge  me  for  an 
act  of  indiscretion  already  committed.  But  he  was  right 
in  his  prognostication.  The  paper  soon  after  left  us ;  that, 
too,  without  the  help  of  another  anti-slavery  leader.  How 
many  subscriptions  my  imprudence  lost  it,  I  never  knew. 
It  never  had  too  many. 

The  earliest  of  the  fugitive  slave  cases  that  made  much 
stir  in  Boston  was  that  of  William  and  Ellen  Craft,  two 
slaves  who  had  escaped  from  Georgia  under  romantic  cir 
cumstances.  Ellen,  who  was  white  enough  to  pass  for  one 
of  the  superior  race,  cut  her  hair,  and  put  on  male  attire, 
assuming  the  role  of  a  consumptive  young  planter  travel 
ling  North  in  search  of  health,  attended  by  a  devoted  black 
servant.  The  servant  was  her  own  husband  and  fellow- 
slave,  William.  They  passed  unsuspected  in  public  con 
veyances,  but  were  afterwards  traced  to  Boston,  where,  in 
October,  1850,  two  slave-hunters  arrived  in  pursuit  of  the 
fugitives.  They  were  concealed  by  their  friends,  and  mar 
ried  under  the  laws  of  Massachusetts  by  Theodore  Parker. 
For  two  weeks,  during  which  time  he  kept  Ellen  concealed 
in  his  house,  that  sturdy  preacher  wrote  his  sermons,  as  he 
said  afterwards,  "  with  a  sword  in  the  open  drawer  under 
his  inkstand,  and  a  pistol  in  the  flap  of  his  desk,  loaded 
and  ready  "  for  the  kidnappers,  who,  however,  were  unable 
to  lay  hands  upon  either  of  the  fugitives. 

In  February,  1851,  Shadrach,  a  colored  waiter  in  the 
Cornhill  Coffee-House,  was  seized  as  a  fugitive  slave,  car 
ried  before  Commissioner  George  T.  Curtis,  and  rescued  by 
a  number  of  colored  men,  headed  by  Lewis  Hayden.  They 
burst  suddenly  into  the  court-room,  took  him  by  force  from 
the  hands  of  the  officers,  and  hustled  him  into  a  hack  that 
chanced  to  be  passing,  driven  by  a  colored  man.  He  was 


A    CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  1 

carried  rapidly  to  Cambridge  bridge,  and  on  through  Cam 
bridge  to  Arlington,  —  then  West  Cambridge,  —  where  he 
was  put  into  another  carriage  and  driven  to  Concord.  There 
he  was  befriended,  concealed,  and  fed,  and  taken  the  same 
night  in  a  wagon  to  Sudbury,  whence  he  made  his  way 
safely  to  Canada  by  the  Underground  Railroad,  the  popu 
lar  term  applied  to  the  system  of  secret  aid  and  further 
ance  given  in  those  days  to  fugitive  slaves  escaping  through 
the  Northern  States. 

The  rescue  of  Shadrach  caused  great  rejoicing  among  all 
who  sympathized  with  the  bondman,  and  equal  rage  and 
indignation  among  the  slave-catchers  and  their  friends. 
President  Fillmore,  appealed  to  by  telegraph,  fulminated  a 
proclamation  on  the  subject ;  it  was  likewise  the  occasion 
of  an  exciting  debate  in  Congress,  and  of  more  or  less  acri 
monious  discussion  throughout  the  country. 

A  few  weeks  later  Thomas  Simms,  another  runaway  slave, 
was  arrested  in  Boston  on  a  false  pretext  of  theft,  and  put 
under  guard  in  the  Court  House,  which  was  guarded  by  a 
strong  police  force  and  defended  by  heavy  chains.  Every 
comer  was  challenged,  and  only  those  who  could  show  that 
they  had  business  within  its  walls  were  permitted  to  creep 
under  the  chains  ;  even  the  judges  of  the  courts  had  to 
submit  to  that  humiliation.  For  merely  making  an  inquiry 
regarding  the  fugitive,  one  well-known  citizen,  Samuel  E. 
Sewall,  was  arrested  and  committed  to  the  watch-house. 
Terror  and  haste  marked  the  proceedings.  The  fugitive 
was  remanded  to  slavery  by  Commissioner  Curtis,  who  had 
issued  the  warrant  for  his  seizure  ;  and  at  daybreak  on  the 
morning  of  April  4  he  was  taken  from  his  cell,  placed  in 
a  hollow  square  of  three  hundred  armed  policemen,  and 
marched  swiftly  through  the  empty  streets  to  Long  Wharf, 


8  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

where  he  was  put  on  board  a  vessel  that  immediately  set 
sail  with  him  for  Savannah.  Arrived  at  that  port,  he  was 
taken  to  jail,  whipped,  confined  two  months,  and  afterwards 
sold  from  a  slave-pen  in  New  Orleans  to  a  Vicksburg 
brick-mason.  To  those  interested  in  his  fate,  it  was  gratify 
ing  to  know  that  he  lived  to  gain  his  freedom  by  the  war. 
During  the  siege  of  Vicksburg  he  escaped  through  the 
rebel  lines,  and  was  sent  North  by  the  Union  forces. 

The  case  of  Anthony  Burns,  which  I  have  already 
alluded  to,  occurred  in  May,  1854.  I  was  living  in  bach 
elor  lodgings  in  Seaver  Place,  engaged  in  writing  the  novel 
of  "  Martin  Merrivale,"  when  the  terrible  realities  of  that 
event  put  my  poor,  fictitious  characters  to  ignominious 
flight,  and  revived  in  me  a  desire  to  write  a  novel  on  a 
wholly  different  subject. 

It  was  not  easy  at  that  time  to  take  a  runaway  slave  out 
of  Boston  ;  secrecy  and  subterfuge  had  to  be  used,  without 
much  regard  to  the  forms  of  law.  Burns,  like  Simms,  was 
arrested  on  a  false  pretext,  and  hurried  before  United 
States  Commissioner  Edward  G.  Loring,  before  it  was 
known  that  kidnappers  were  again  in  the  city.  It  had 
been  hoped  that  the  rescue  of  Shadrach,  and  the  tremendous 
difficulties  encountered  in  the  rendition  of  Simms,  would 
sufficiently  discourage  similar  attempts,  as  indeed  they  did 
for  a  time.  But  Burns  had  really  been  seized,  not  for  any 
petty  offence,  as  pretended,  but  as  a  fugitive  from  the 
service  of  Charles  F.  Suttle,  a  Virginia  slaveholder.  The 
truth  became  quickly  known,  despite  the  precautions  taken 
to  conceal  it ;  and  the  report,  which  became  a  rallying  cry 
to  the  friends  of  the  oppressed,  "  Another  man  kidnapped  !" 
ran  with  electric  swiftness  through  the  city. 

Commissioner  Loring  was  also  Judge  of  Probate,  and  a 


A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  9 

man  of  eminent  respectability.  In  his  private  life  he 
was,  no  doubt,  just  and  humane.  I  was  present,  and 
watched  his  face  with  painful  interest  when  he  rendered 
his  decision  in  the  case.  In  vain  had  Mr.  Richard  H.  Dana 
made  his  eloquent  plea  for  the  prisoner,  warning  the  com 
missioner  that  what  he  was  about  to  do  would  take  its  place 
in  history,  and  praying  that  it  might  be  in  accord  with  a 
large  interpretation  of  the  law,  with  the  higher  conscience, 
and  with  mercy.  The  commissioner  had  evidently  deter 
mined  to  perform  what  he  deemed  his  duty,  without  any 
betrayal  of  emotion.  His  face  was  slightly  flushed,  but 
firm.  My  pity  was  not  all  for  the  slave ;  some  of  it  was 
for  such  a  man  in  such  a  place.  On  a  bench  before  him  sat 
Theodore  Parker  and  Wendell  Phillips,  the  great  preacher 
and  the  brilliant  orator,  whose  certain  and  terrible  denun 
ciations  of  what  he  was  about  to  do  might  well  have  made 
him  pause.  Perhaps,  as  a  commissioner  acting  under  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Act,  and  ignoring  the  laws  of  Massachu 
setts,  he  could  not  have  rendered  a  different  judgment. 
But  he  might  have  resigned  his  commission,  and  washed 
his  hands  of  the  whole  black  business  in  that  way.  With 
out  a  tremor  of  lip  or  of  voice  he  coldly  reviewed  the 
evidence  and  the  law  in  the  case,  and  remanded  Anthony 
Burns  to  slavery.  Then  Parker  and  Phillips  arose  and 
walked  arm  in  arm  out  of  the  court-room,  conversing  in 
low  tones,  with  bowed  head,  and  lowering  brows. 

Meanwhile  Boston  was  in  a  turmoil  of  excitement. 
Public  meetings  were  held,  an  immense  one  in  Faneuil 
Hall  on  the  evening  preceding  the  removal  of  the  fugitive ; 
and  that  night  there  was  a  gallant  but  ill-timed  attack 
upon  the  Court  House  in  which  he  was  confined.  A  stick 
of  timber  was  used  as  a  battering-ram  against  one  of  the 


10  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

western  doors,  which,  was  broken  in ;  there  was  a  melee  of 
axes,  bludgeons,  and  firearms,  and  one  of  the  marshal's 
guard  was  killed.  But  the  assailants,  led  by  that  ardent 
young  reformer,  Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson,  whom  the 
world  was  to  hear  considerably  more  of  later,  and  by  the 
colored  man,  Lewis  Hayden,  were  unsupported,  and  were 
driven  back. 

Reports  of  the  Faneuil  Hall  meeting  and  of  the  assault 
on  the  Court  House  rallied  an  immense  crowd  to  Court 
Square  and  the  adjacent  streets  the  next  morning,  to 
witness  the  final  act  of  the  drama.  It  was  a  black  day 
for  Boston,  that  27th  of  May,  1854 ;  the  passions  of  men 
were  stirred  to  their  depths,  and  often  friends  were  divided 
against  friends.  I  remember  meeting  in  the  crowd  one  I 
had  been  on  intimate  terms  with  not  long  before.  He  had 
been  an  officer  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  was  as  much  of  a 
Eoman  as  to  his  nose  and  character  as  any  man  I  ever 
knew.  But  that  day  the  Roman  in  him  was  enlisted  in  a 
bad  cause.  Drawing  me  aside  in  the  crowd,  and  opening 
his  vest,  he  grimly  called  my  attention  to  a  revolver  thrust 
into  an  inside  pocket. 

« What's  that  for,  Ned  ?  "  I  asked  in  the  old  familiar 
way. 

"  I  am  one  of  the  marshal's  private  deputies,"  he  an 
swered  with  brutal  frankness.  "  There  are  over  a  hundred 
of  us  in  the  Court  House  there  and  in  this  crowd.  At  the 
first  sign  of  an  attempt  to  rescue  that  damned  nigger,  we 
are  going  in  for  a  bloody  fight.  I  hope  there'll  be  a 
row,  for  it's  the  top-round  of  my  ambition  to  shoot  an 
abolitionist." 

"  Well,  Ned,"  I  replied,  "  you  may  possibly  have  an 
opportunity  to  shoot  me  ;  for  if  I  see  a  chance  to  help  that 


A    CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  11 

damned  nigger,  as  you  call  him,  I'm  afraid  I  shall  take  a 
hand." 

Any  attempt  of  the  kind  at  that  time  was  out  of  the 
question.  But  for  a  misunderstanding,  a  rescue  might 
have  been  effected  when  the  Court  House  door  was  battered 
in  the  night  before.  That  failure  had  rendered  subsequent 
success  impossible,  and  it  is  a  curious  circumstance  that 
the  fiery  Wendell  Phillips  himself  was  largely  responsible 
for  it.  While,  like  the  most  of  the  speakers  at  the  Faneuil 
Hall  meeting,  he  was  in  favor  of  a  forcible  deliverance  of 
Burns,  —  declaring,  "  If  that  man  leaves  Boston,  Massachu 
setts  is  a  conquered  State  !  "  —  he  yet  opposed  those  who 
would  have  hurled  his  host  of  hearers,  excited  and  irresist 
ible,  against  the  Court  House  that  night.  "  The  zeal  that 
will  not  hold  out  till  morning,"  he  said,  "will  never  free 
a  slave."  l 

But  the  morning  was  too  late.  The  broken  door  was 
barricaded ;  the  Court  House  was  a  fortress.  Besides  his 
hundred  deputies  —  men  recruited  for  the  most  part  from 
the  brutal  and  vicious  classes  of  society,  frequenters  of 
grog-shops  and  gaming-saloons  —  besides  this  posse  of  des 
peradoes,  disposed  as  his  special  guard,  and  distributed 
through  the  crowd  they  were  to  watch  and  thwart,  the 
marshal  had  the  police  force  of  Boston  and  a  large  body  of 
militia,  ostensibly  to  keep  the  peace,  but  practically  to  aid 
him  in  his  ignoble  task.  The  Court  House  was  encircled  by 
bayonets,  and  Court  Street  and  State  Street  were  lined  on 
both  sides  with  files  of  troops,  keeping  a  lane  open,  all  the 
way  to  Long  WTharf,  for  the  expected  procession. 

At  length  it  set  forth,  led  by  a  vanguard  of  armed  police. 

1  Quoted  by  Hon.  Henry  Wilson,  in  his  exceedingly  interesting  and 
valuable  "  History  of  the  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Slave  Power  in  America." 


12  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

"  There  he  is  ! "  went  up  a  half-stifled  cry  from  the  multi 
tude;  and  there  indeed  he  was,  that  one  poor,  hunted, 
black  bondman,  whom  a  derisive  fate  had  that  day  made 
the  most  talked-of  and  important  figure  in  all  New  England. 
What  must  he  have  thought  of  the  great  concourse  of 
citizens,  the  swords  and  clubs  and  muskets,  that  met  his 
bewildered  gaze  as  he  walked  forth  from  his  prison  ?  —  all 
there  for  him,  the  wretched  and  baffled  runaway  from  Vir 
ginia  !  I  remember  well  the  scared  black  face  of  him,  as 
he  rolled  his  eyes  about  for  a  moment  before  he  was  hurried 
away ;  not  so  very  black,  either,  —  a  complexion  rather  of 
bronze  than  of  iron,  with  a  gleam  of  excitement  in  it  which 
was  almost  a  smile.  He  had  heard  the  blows  that  thun 
dered  against  the  Court  House  door  the  night  before ;  he 
knew  what  they  meant ;  he  knew  how  Shadrach  had  been 
rescued ;  but  if  he  still  cherished  a  hope  of  his  own  deliver 
ance,  it  must  have  abandoned  him  at  that  moment.  All 
was  over.  The  free  land  to  which  he  had  escaped  through 
difficulties  and  dangers  was  no  free  land  for  such  as  he. 
Back  he  must  go  to  bondage  and  the  lash. 

There  was  no  pause.  The  marshal  and  his  special  guard 
encompassed  him  in  a  compact  phalanx,  following  the  van 
guard;  and  another  body  of  armed  police  closed  up  the 
rear.  The  march  was  rapid,  amid  groans  and  hisses,  and 
now  and  then  a  cheer,  from  the  ranks  of  spectators.  From 
Court  Square  into  Court  Street,  gazed  at  from  hundreds  of 
windows,  some  of  which  were  draped  in  black  in  token  of 
the  city's  humiliation ;  past  the  old  State  House,  and  over 
the  very  ground  where  the  first  blood  was  shed  preluding 
the  Revolutionary  struggle,  some  of  it  the  blood  of  a  black 
man,  —  scene  of  the  "  Boston  Massacre ;  "  and  so  on,  down 
State  Street,  moved  the  strange  procession,  between  the 


A    CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  13 

two  rows  of  bayoneted  guns  to  Long  Wharf,  where  by  the 
President's  orders  a  revenue  cutter  was  in  waiting,  to 
receive  on  board  the  kidnappers  and  their  prey. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  sit  down  again  quietly 
to  the  fiction  on  which  I  was  engaged.  I  felt  a  burning 
desire  to  pour  out  in  some  channel  the  feelings  which, 
long  suppressed,  had  been  roused  to  a  high  pitch  of  excite 
ment  by  this  last  outrage.  Still,  something  of  the  old 
repugnance  to  the  subject  of  slavery  remained ;  I  shrank 
from  the  thought  of  making  a  black  man  my  hero ;  the 
enormous  popularity  of  "  Uncle  Tom,"  instead  of  inciting 
me  to  try  my  hand  at  an  anti-slavery  novel,  served  rather 
to  deter  me  from  entering  the  field  which  Mrs.  Stowe  had 
occupied  with  such  splendid  courage  and  success. 

More  than  once,  before  the  Anthony  Burns  affair,  before 
"  Uncle  Tom "  even,  the  fugitive  slave  as  a  subject  for  a 
novel  had  come  up  in  my  mind,  and  I  had  put  it  resolutely 
aside ;  but  now  it  presented  itself  again,  and  persistently 
haunted  me.  "  Why  a  black  man  ? "  I  said  to  myself. 
"  All  slaves  are  not  black.  And  why  a  man  at  all  ?  "  as 
I  thought  of  Ellen  Craft.  "  Sympathy  will  be  more 
easily  enlisted  for  a  woman,  white,  with  native  refinement 
and  sweetness  of  character,  and  yet  born  a  slave,  with  all 
the  power  and  prejudice  of  legal  ownership  and  cruel  caste 
conspiring  to  defeat  her  happiness."  And  I  fell  to  think 
ing  of  that  form  of  slavery  which  condemned  to  a  degrad 
ing  bondage,  not  those  of  African  blood  alone,  but  so  many 
of  the  disinherited  descendants  of  the  proud,  white  master 
race. 

Almost  unconsciously  to  myself,  the  thing  was  taking 
shape  in  my  mind,  when  I  went  to  spend  the  summer  — 
that  of  1854  —  in  the  bosom  of  the  Green  Mountains.     In 


14  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

the  broad  and  beautiful  valley  of  Otter  Creek  I  found,  in 
an  old  farmhouse,  a  quiet  place  to  live  and  think  and 
write.  I  gave  four  or  five  hours  a  day  to  "  Martin  Merri- 
vale,"  which  was  then  appearing  in  monthly  numbers  from 
the  press  of  Phillips,  Sampson,  &  Co.,  and  had  ample  leisure, 
in  the  long  summer  afternoons,  to  bathe  in  the  streams, 
wander  in  the  woods,  climb  the  mountains,  and  in  my 
rambles  to  make  extensive  acquaintance  with  the  country 
and  the  people. 

One  day,  while  exploring  the  interval  about  the  conflu 
ence  of  Otter  Creek  and  Mad  River,  —  which  became  Hun- 
tersford  Creek  and  Wild  River  in  the  novel,  the  scene  of 
the  fishing  adventure  of  Mr.  Jackwood  and  Bim ;  lost,  like 
them,  amid  the  tortuous  windings  of  the  two  streams,  still 
further  lost  in  my  own  imaginings,  —  I  suddenly  saw  rise 
up  before  me  the  form  of  an  old  hag  out  of  the  tall  grass. 
And  it  was  not  an  old  hag  at  all,  but  a  beautiful  girl  in 
disguise ;  nor  yet  a  girl,  but  really  a  creature  of  my  own 
imagination,  which  appeared  as  vividly  to  my  mind's  eye 
as  if  it  had  been  either  or  both. 

"  Both  it  shall  be  ! "  I  said  ;  "  a  forlorn  maiden  in  the 
guise  of  an  old  woman,  lost  here  in  this  wilderness  of  alders 
and  long  grass  and  labyrinthine  streams !  —  a  mystery  to  be 
accounted  for."  And  the  phantom-like  projection  of  my 
fancy  took  its  place  at  once  in  the  plan  of  the  story,  giving 
it  life  and  form  from  that  hour. 

I  was  impatient  to  get  "  Martin "  off  my  hands,  and  to 
begin  the  new  novel,  of  which  I  wrote  the  first  chapters 
in  the  old  Vermont  farmhouse,  in  the  midst  of  the  scenes 
described ;  it  was  then  thrown  aside,  to  be  taken  up  later, 
under  very  different  circumstances.  I  carried  the  manu 
script  to  Europe  with  me  in  the  spring  of  1855 ;  and  having 


A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  15 

settled  down  in  Passy,  just  outside  the  walls  of  Paris  (now 
a  part  of  Paris  itself),  I  resumed  work  upon  it,  writing  a 
chapter,  or  a  part  of  a  chapter,  every  morning,  and' joining 
my  friends  in  excursions  in  and  about  the  gay  capital  in 
the  afternoon. 

I  had  one  friend  there  who,  by  his  sympathetic  and  sug 
gestive  criticisms,  assisted  me  greatly  in  my  work.  He 
read  the  manuscript  almost  as  fast  as  it  was  written,  and 
was  always  eager  to  talk  with  me  about  the  incidents  and 
characters,  and  their  development,  thus  keeping  up  my 
interest  in  them,  when  it  might  otherwise  have  flagged, 
amid  the  diversions  of  a  life  so  strangely  in  contrast  with 
the  life  I  was  depicting.  Often  we  walked  together  to  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne  in  an  evening,  sat  down  on  a  bench  by 
one  of  the  lakes,  and  discussed  the  Jackwood  family,  Enos 
Crumlett  and  Tildy,  Hector  and  Charlotte,  and  the  slave- 
catchers,  until  these  became  more  real  to  us  than  the  phan 
tasmal  beings  in  carriages  or  on  foot,  moving  before  our 
eyes  in  the  lighted  park.  This  friend  was  Lewis  Baxter 
Monroe,  afterwards  well  known  as  Professor  Monroe  of  the 
Boston  School  of  Oratory,  which  he  established  and  made 
famous. 

The  story  finished,  I  had  great  trouble  in  naming  it.  I 
suppose  a  score  of  titles  were  considered,  only  to  be  re 
jected.  At  last  I  settled  down  upon  "  Jackwood,"  but  felt 
the  need  of  joining  to  that  name  some  characteristic  phrase 
or  epithet.  Thus  I  was  led  to  think  of  this  scriptural 
motto  for  the  title-page  :  — • 

"  A  certain  woman  went  down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  and 
fell  among  thieves." 

Which  suggested  the  question,  "Who  was  neighbor  unto 


16  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

this  woman ? "  and  the  answer,  "Neighbor  Jackwood"  And 
I  had  my  title. 

I  read  the  proofs  of  the  novel  in  the  spring  of  1856, 
after  my  return  to  America;  but  it  was  not  published  until 
the  following  winter,  for  a  special  reason,  which  found  con 
siderably  less  favor  with  the  author  than  with  the  publish 
ers.  Mr.  Phillips  was  afraid  the  work  might  be  lost  sight 
of  in  the  dust  raised  by  Mrs.  Stowe's  "  Dred,"  which  he  was 
to  issue  about  the  time  my  humbler  venture  was  ready.  I 
was  repaid  for  this  tax  upon  my  patience,  when,  after  the 
book  had  been  out  a  few  days,  and  the  press  notices  were 
beginning  to  come  in,  Mr.  Phillips  greeted  me  one  morning 
with  his  peculiarly  stately  bow,  and  a  serene  smile,  and 
remarked  significantly,  "  Our  friend  i  Jackwood  '  needn't 
have  been  afraid  of  anybody's  dust." 

It  had  the  advantage  of  a  fresh  and  unhackneyed  theme, 
and  was  the  first  serious  attempt  to  depict  those  phases  of 
country  life  amid  which  the  narrative  moves,  and  to  render 
the  speech  of  the  people  with  due  regard  to  its  humorous 
flavor,  yet  absolutely  without  exaggeration.  Although 
written  "  with  a  purpose,"  that  was,  as  far  as  possible,  en 
closed  in  the  larger  purpose  of  telling  a  strong  and  inter 
esting  story.  Of  course  the  anti-slavery  element  in  it  was 
liberally  denounced,  and  the  bombshell  of  surprise,  before 
mentioned,  caused  a  shock  to  the  prejudices  of  many  wor 
thy  people.  They  were  horrified  by  the  mere  suggestion 
of  a  union  between  the  hero  and  heroine.  I  had  been 
careful  to  offset  the  cloud  of  heredity  resting  upon  her  by 
one  more  terrible  lowering  upon  his  family  and  threat 
ening  him  ;  but  those  so  quick  to  take  offence  at  the  one 
gave  no  heed  to  the  other. 

The  success  of  the  novel  led  to  its  dramatization  by  the 


A    CHAPTER    OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  17 

author  for  the  Boston  Museum  stage,  then  managed  by 
the  veteran  actor,  W.  If.  Smith,  who  took  the  title  role  of 
"Neighbor  Jackwood."  The  part  of  "  Enos  Crumlett" 
was  expanded  to  the  proportions  of  William  Warren,  a 
comic  actor  of  rare  powers,  for  many  years  a  prime  favorite 
with  Boston  audiences,  that  never  wearied  of  his  broad,  yet 
delicate  and  genial  humor.  I  engaged  all  the  players  to 
read  the  book  while  studying  their  parts,  and  thus  secured 
unusually  good  personations  of  the  characters  from  a  medi 
ocre  company.  We  had  a  bright  young  girl,  Rose  Skerrett, 
to  personate  "  Bim.?'  Mrs.  Thompson,  who  was  never  a 
noticeably  bright  star  in  anything  else,  blazed  out  conspic 
uously  as  "  Grandmother  Rigglesty/ '  into  which  character 
she  threw  energies  she  was  not  before  supposed  to  possess 
—  so  conscientious  in  her  presentation  of  it  that  (as  Dr. 
Holmes  remarked)  she  "  took  out  her  teeth.'' 

The  first  night  of  the  piece  was  memorable  to  at  least 
one  person  in  the  audience.  I  went  early  to  the  theatre, 
and  ensconced  myself,  with  a  friend,  in  an  obscure  corner, 
where  I  could  carefully  watch  the  performance,  to  see 
where  it  dragged,  and  note  whatever  changes  should  be 
made  in  the  inevitable  "  cutting "  process  to  take  place 
the  next  day.  All  went  prosperously  until  suddenly  there 
was  a  hiss,  and  a  storm  of  howls  and  hisses  immediately 
followed.  A  crisis  in  the  plot  had  been  reached,  which 
roused  the  opposition  of  the  pro-slavery  part  of  the  audi 
ence  —  a  very  large  part,  as  it  seemed  for  a  while.  A 
counter-storm  of  cheers  and  clappings  set  in,  and  there  was 
a  prolonged  uproar  that  threatened  to  end  the  performance. 
If  the  tempest  of  opposition  was  overcome  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  it  would  burst  forth  again  as  soon  as  the  applause 
subsided  ;  and  the  same  battle  had  to  bo  fought  over  again. 


18  A   CHAPTER   OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Victory  at  last  remained  with  the  friends  of  the  piece,  and 
the  performance  proceeded. 

"  You  will  cut  out  those  objectionable  speeches  ? "  my 
friend  whispered  in  my  ear. 

"No,"  I  replied;  "I  will  strengthen  them." 
An  amusing  incident  occurred  when  we  were  on  our  way 
to  the  theatre  that  first  night,  Monday,  March  16,  1857. 
Being  just  then  personally  interested  in  play-bills,  I  turned 
aside  to  see  what  a  man  was  pasting  over  one  which  I  had 
frequently  regarded  with  especial  satisfaction,  as  I  passed 
it  that  day  and  the  preceding  Sunday.  It  was  the  bill  of 
the  next  day's  performance  of  "  Jackwood  ;  "  and  on  it  was 
announced,  in  the  showy  headlines  then  in  vogue,  the  aston 
ishing  success  of  the  first  performance,  which  we  were  then 
on  our  way  to  witness. 

"  TREMENDOUS  HIT  ! ! 
RECEIVED  WITH  THUNDERS  OF  APPLAUSE  ! ! !" 

"  All  right,  only  the  man  is  a  little  too  previous,"  said 
my  friend,  as  we  Avent  on  laughing.  "  But  we'll  take  it  as 
a  good  omen." 

I  may  here  add  that  this  incident  served  as  a  hint  for 
the  opening  lines  of  "  Author's  Night,"  written  a  few  years 
later :  — 

"  '  BRILL/ANT  SUCCESS!'  the  play-bills  said, 
Flaming  all  over  the  town  one  day, 
Blazing  in  capitals  blue  and  red,  — 
Printed  for  posting,  by  the  way, 
Before  the  public  had  seen  the  play"  etc. 

"Jackwood"  had  a  long  and  prosperous  run  on  the 
boards  in  Boston,  and  was  afterwards  brought  out  in  other 
places,  but  with  less  satisfactory  results.  In  New  York, 
where  I  saw  it  to  my  sorrow,  it  was  badly  acted,  all  the 


A    CHAPTER    OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  19 

naturalness  and  humor  of  the  parts  being  degraded  to 
mere  farce.  It  is  now  some  years  since  it  has  been  repre 
sented  on  any  public  stage ;  but  the  novel  has  never  lacked 
readers. 

Edition  has  followed  edition,  until  the  original  plates 
have  become  too  much  worn  for  further  service.  In  pre 
paring  the  present  edition  to  be  printed  from  new  plates,  I 
have  taken  the  opportunity  to  revise  the  text,  and  even  to 
write  some  new  scenes  into  the  concluding  chapters.  In 
going  carefully  through  the  book,  for  the  first  time  after  a 
lapse  of  almost  forty  years,  I  have  been  conscious  of  its 
many  faults  of  youth  and  inexperience  ;  and  if  I  have 
been  somewhat  tender  of  these  in  the  work  of  revision, 
it  has  been  because  they  have  often  appeared  rooted  and 
interknit  with  the  very  elements  of  the  story,  and  nourished 
by  the  fervor  of  feeling  that  inspired  it. 

JOHN  TOWNSEND  TROWBRIDGE. 
ARLINGTON,  MASS.,  FEB.  1,  1895. 


NOTE.  —  Since  the  preceding  pages  were  electrotyped,  the  most  important 
actor  in  what  I  have  termed  the  "  gallant  but  ill-timed  attack  upon  the  Court 
House,"  has  kindly  favored  me  with  his  own  view  of  the  timeliness  of  the  at 
tempted  rescue  of  Burns. 

"  The  time,"  writes  T.  W.  Higginson,  "  was  the  best  part  of  it ;  that  is,  mak 
ing  the  attack  in  the  middle  of  the  Faneuil  Hall  meeting,  when  it  was  a  complete 
surprise,  and  (as  the  marshal  afterwards  said)  thirty  men  could  have  taken 
Burns.  The  reason  of  failure  was  (1)  the  exceedingly  crowded  meeting,  making 
exit  slow ;  and  (2)  the  fact  that  there  was  not  then,  as  now,  a  private  exit  from 
the  stage,  so  that  the  abolitionists  on  the  platform  had  to  make  their  way  past 
the  mob  of  idlers  or  opponents,  who  filled  the  doorways  and  reached  Court 
Square  before  them." 

If  Colonel  Higginson  ever  publishes  his  own  recollections  of  that  stormy 
occasion,  as  he  partly  promises  to  do,  in  the  letter  from  which  I  am  permitted 
to  make  this  extract,  they  will  be  extremely  interesting  reading. 


MRS.  THOMPSON   AS  "  GRANDMOTHER   RKKII.ESTY."     Miss  ROSK  SKKRRKTT  AS  "  KIM/' 
WILLIAM  WAKUKN  AS  "  ENUS  CKUMI.ETT/'  W.   H.  SMITH  AS  "  JACKWOOD." 


Actors  in  the  Play  "  AY/<<///w  Jackivood."   as  brought  out  at  the 
Boston  Mit. sen >n,  March    16,   1857. 

[From  a  Photograph  1 


NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 


THE    MOUTH    OF    WILD    RIVER 

IN  the  kitchen  door  of  an  old,  weather-worn  Vermont 
farmhouse  stood  Mr.  Abimelech  Jackwood,  tilling  his  pipe 
for  an  after-dinner  smoke,  and  looking  up  at  the  sky  with 
an  air  of  contemplative  wisdom. 

"  Is  it  go'n'  to  rain,  think  ? "  asked  Abimelech  the 
younger,  —  commonly  called  I>im,  —  holding  out  his  hand 
to  see  if  he  could  catch  a  sprinkle.  "  Say,  father  —  Con 
found  your  pictur'  ! " 

The  anathema  was  addressed,  not  to  the  parent  Jack- 
wood  by  any  means,  but  to  the  dog  Hover,  who,  seeing  the 
boy's  hand  extended  in  a  manner  which  appeared  provoca 
tive  of  sport,  leaped  up  from  the  door-stone  where  he  had 
been  lying,  with  his  chin  on  his  paws,  snapping  at  the  flies, 
and  pounced  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  younger  Abimelech. 

Mr.  Jackwood  preserved  a  circumspect  silence,  while  his 
sagacious  eye  seemed  to  explore  every  square  yard  of  sky 
visible  between  the  two  ranges  of  the  Green  Mountains 
that  bounded  the  valley. 

"  I  never  knowed  the  sign  to  fail/'  he  observed,  after 
mature  deliberation,  crowding  the  tobacco  into  his  pipe- 
bowl  with  his  thumb,  >•  that  when  you  see  a  light  mist,  like 
the  smoke  of  a  chimbly,  movin'  acrost  the  face  of  the  Eagle 
Rocks,  'arly  in  mornin',  —  like  what  there  was  this  mornin', 
—  there'll  be  rain  within  four-'n'-twenty  hours.  Them  'ere 

21 


22  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

clouds  is  jest  what  I  expected;  but  mebby  they'll  hold  off 
all  the  arternoon.  I  don't  see  no  crows  on  the  dead  ellum 
yit." 

"  I  wish  you'd  go  a-fishin',"  said  Abimelech.  "  It's  Sat'- 
day,  and  we  sha'n't  do  much  work  if  we  stay  to  hum." 

"  I  ben  thinkin'  a  little  about  tryin'  a  hand  at  the  fish 
myself,"  responded  Mr.  Jackwood,  lighting  his  pipe  at  the 
kitchen  stove.  "  But  I  guess,  Bim'lech,"  -  -  puff,  puff,  — 
"  we'll  finish  hoin'  that  little  patch  o'  'taters  fust,"  —  puff, 
puff,  puff,  —  "  then  see  how  the  weather  looks.  How're  ye 
on't  for  hooks  an'  lines  ?  " 

Abimelech  made  haste  to  find  the  fishing-tackle,  and  sub 
mit  it  to  his  father's  inspection. 

"  How  spry  you  be,  Bim  !  "  cried  his  sister  Phoebe,  —  a 
bright-eyed,  rosy-cheeked  girl  of  sixteen,  —  over  the  dinner- 
dishes.  "If  you'd  been  asked  to  bring  a  pail  of  water, 
'twould  have  taken  you  twice  as  long  to  start." 

"  Tell  her  you  don't  go  a-fishin'  every  day,"  said  Mr. 
Jackwood  good-naturedly.  "  Where's  your  sinkers,  boy  ?  " 

Bim  entered  into  a  long  and  complicate  history  of  the 
manner  in  which,  by  various  mischances,  the  sinkers  had 
become  lost  or  destroyed. 

"  I  can  tell  a  straighter  story  than  that,"  laughed  Phoebe, 
flirting  the  table-cloth  at  the  chickens.  "  He  took  the  sink 
ers,  and  all  the  other  lead  he  could  find,  to  run  a  cannon  to 
shoot  Independence  with.  The  top  of  the  pewter  teapot 
went  the  same  way." 

Bim  looked  troubled  under  his  father's  reproof. 

"  I  don't  care,  for  all  that,  though,"  he  whispered,  wink 
ing  at  his  sister,  "  if  he'll  only  le'  me  go  a-fishin' !  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  we  shall  do  for  sinkers,"  —  and  Mr. 
Jackwood  fumbled  in  the  nail-box.  "  There  ain't  a  bit  o' 
lead  in  the  house,  't  I  know  on." 

"  There  is  that  'ere  Ticonderogy  bullet,"  suggested  Abim 
elech  meekly. 

"  Yes ;  and  it's  lucky  you  didn't  git  holt  o'  that  when  you 


THE  MOUTH  OF  WILD  EIVEE  23 

run  your  pesky  cannon  !  But  I  kinder  hate  to  use  that. 
It's  a  relic  I've  ben  lottin'  on  handin'  down  to  futur' 
generations." 

Notwithstanding  the  patriotic  desire,  Mr.  Jackwood,  re 
tiring  to  the  bedroom,  opened  the  till  of  his  chest,  and  pro 
duced  the  famous  bullet. 

"  I  expect  that  'ere  ball  killed  a  man,  Bim'lech,"  he 
remarked  impressively,  balancing  the  relic  on  the  palm  of 
his  hand.  "  Your  Uncle  Dani'l  picked  it  out  of  a  skull,  to 
Ticonderogy.  The  heft  on't  can't  be  much  short  of  an 
ounce;  an'  what  a  story  it  could  tell,  childern,  if  it  could 
only  talk  ! " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  earnestly  counselled  her  husband  against 
sacrificing  so  precious  a  memento  of  Revolutionary  times. 
But,  having  duly  weighed  it  in  his  hand,  and  found  it 
lighter  than  the  present  necessity,  he  submitted  it  to  the 
hammer,  pounded  it  out  flat  on  the  doorstone,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  the  manufacture  of  sinkers. 

Abimelech's  industry  that  afternoon  excited  the  surprise 
and  admiration  of  all  who  witnessed  it.  He  hoed  potatoes 
—  to  use  his  father's  expression  —  "like  a  major/'  The 
anticipation  of  piscatory  sport  inspired  him ;  the  stint  was 
speedily  accomplished ;  and  just  as  the  noisy  old  kitchen 
clock  was  striking  three,  father  and  son  might  have  been 
seen  passing  through  the  dooryard  gate,  into  the  road, 
with  their  fish-poles  011  their  shoulders. 

Huntersford  Creek,  a  broad,  clear-running  stream,  which 
deserved  the  name  of  river,  swept  through  the  valley  with 
in  a  stone's  throw  of  Mr.  Jackwood's  house ;  and  far  to  the 
north  the  fringing  willows  on  its  banks,  and  graceful  elm- 
trees  stationed  here  and  there,  marked  its  winding  course. 
One  mile  below,  Wild  River,  dashing  down  from  the  moun 
tains  like  a  savage  bridegroom,  hastened  to  the  embrace  of 
the  more  gentle  stream.  But  the  coy  creek  eluded  the 
approach  of  her  impetuous  wooer  in  a  hundred  coquettish 
curves  now  advancing  softly  to  meet  him,  or  moving  on 


24  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

serenely  by  his  side,  soothing  and  taming  him  with  song ; 
then,  when  almost  within  his  reach,  turning  suddenly  aside, 
and  leading  him  a  long  and  tortuous  chase  through  the 
green  meadows ;  until,  driven  to  the  verge  of  the  interval, 
beneath  the  brow  of  a  mountain  that  stood  like  a  solemn 
priest  blessing  the  union,  the  fair  fugitive  yielded,  and 
they  twain  became  one  stream. 

Mr.  Jack  wood  professed  an  aquaintance  with  the  geog 
raphy  of  this  region,  which  he  proposed  to  explore. 
Abimelech,  elated  with  the  idea,  trotted  along  by  his 
father's  side,  carrying  his  fish-pole  jauntily,  and  chattering 
incessantly. 

"  Here  is  a  lesson  for  ye,  Bim'lech,"  said  his  father,  as 
they  reached  the  vicinity  of  the  river,  pointing  to  an  old- 
fashioned,  dilapidated  house,  in  a  wild -looking  yard  by  the 
roadside.  "  This  used  to  be  the  fust-best  farm  on  the  in 
terval  ;  an'  the  man  't  lives  here  bid  fair  to  be  the  richest 
man  in  the  county.  Fifteen  year  ago,  where  you  see  all 
them  beds  o'  gravel  an'  rocks,  there  was  about  the  han'- 
somest  field  of  corn  't  I  ever  set  eyes  on.  Wai,  it  got  along 
to'ards  the  last  of  August,  and  the  corn  promised  to  turn 
out  nobly ;  everybody  was  praisin'  on't ;  an'  Mr.  Hoodlett 
made  his  brags  on't,  tellin'  about  the  great  crop  he  was 
goin'  to  have,  till  it  seemed  to  me  suthin'  must  happen  to 
that  corn.  So,  one  day,  when  I  was  passin'  by,  I  spoke  to 
Hoodlett.  Says  I,  t Hoodlett,'  says  I,  'what  if  your  corn 
should  turn  out  poor,  arter  all  ?  '  says  I.  '  'Tain't  possible,' 
says  he ;  ( I  know  I  shall  have  the  biggest  crop  ever  raised 
on  the  crick,  jes  's  well  's  if  I'd  seen  it  harvested.'  <  Don't 
be  too  sure,'  says  I.  'Man  ap'ints,  and  God  disap'ints.' 
1 1  tell  ye  what,'  says  he,  '  Neighbor  Jack  wood,'  says  he,  '  I 
wouldn't  ask  God  Almighty  to  insure  me  seventy-five 
bushels  to  the  acre,  any  way,'  says  he ;  '  I  shall  have  it,  an' 
there  ain't  no  gittin'  away  from  't.'  Wai,  it  was  rainin'  a 
little  that  day ;  but  it  rained  harder  that  night ;  an'  all  the 
next  day,  an'  the  next  night,  it  come  down  like  forty-'leven 


THE  MOUTH  OF   WILD  BIVER  25 

Dutch  pedlers ;  an'  the  next  mornin',  when  Hoodlett  looked 
out  o'  the  winder,  there  wan't  a  stalk  o'  corn,  nor  a  square 
foot  o'  cornfield,  to  cure  sore  eyes  with." 

«  What  had  'come  on't  ?  " 

"'Twan't  insured,  an'  'twas  gone.  Wild  Kiver's  a  ter 
rible  fractious  stream,  time  of  freshets ;  but  it  never  done 
noth'n'  like  that  'fore  nor  sence.  It  come  down  through 
the  narrers  with  a  roar  't  could  be  heard  miles  away.  It 
overflowed  the  hull  country  'bout  here,  an'  brought  down  a 
grist  o'  trees  an'  rocks  from  the  mountains,  with  more 
gravel  'n  a  man  could  cart  away  in  a  lifetime.  The  corn 
field  took  the  wust  on't,  an'  got  sarved  so  bad,  't  a  stranger 
wouldn't  'a'  b'lieved,  the  day  arter,  that  there  was  ever  so 
much  as  a  road  through  the  tanglements  of  trees,  roots,  an' 
tops,  that  laid  half-buried  and  piled  on  to  each  other,  all  up 
an'  down  the  river.  That  was  the  ruination  of  Hoodlett. 
The  best  part  of  his  land  was  sp'ilt ;  an'  it  looked  so  much 
like  a  judgment  from  Heav'in,  't  he  got  discouraged,  an' 
has  been  runnin'  down  hill  ever  sence." 

The  adventurers  had  by  this  time  reached  the  bank  of 
the  river,  which  flashed  and  plunged  and  bubbled,  and 
darted  in  swift  green  currents,  shot  through  with  streaks 
of  foam,  amid  the  great  round  bowlders  that  lay  scattered 
up  and  down  its  bed,  while  the  music  of  its  plashing  filled 
the  air.  Here  they  climbed  a  high  bank  lifted  upon  a  per 
pendicular  wall  of  rock  from  the  bed  of  the  stream,  arid 
entered  a  thick  grove  of  young  trees.  Mr.  Jackwood  went 
forward  with  the  poles,  following  a  path  that  led  along  the 
brink  of  the  precipice.  Abimelech  kept  behind,  sometimes 
stopping  to  pick  from  the  young  spruces  bits  of  gum, 
which  stuck  provokingly  in  his  teeth,  or  chewing  leaves  of 
the  bitter  hemlock,  or  peeling  thin  ribbons  of  the  silver 
birch. 

"  Is  hemlock  p'ison  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  spitting  out  some 
leaves. 

"  P'ison  ?  —  no.     WThat  makes  you  ask  that  ?  " 


26  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  'Cause  I  jest  happened  to  think  my  history-book  says 
Socrates  drinked  hemlock  to  kill  himself." 

"  Oh,  wal,"  replied  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  I've  no  doubt  'twould 
kill  a  man  if  he  should  take  enough  on't ;  so  would  a  good 
many  other  things." 

"Socrates  must  a'  took  a  perty  good  swig/'  suggested 
Bim. 

"Or  perhaps  'twas  the  ground  hemlock;  that's  p'ison. 
But  keep  still  now;  you'll  scare  all  the  fish." 

They  reached  a  ledge  which  overhung  a  deep,  narrow 
basin  of  rock.  Beneath  them  lay  the  water,  clear  and 
calm.  Stones  and  pebbles  and  fishes  could  be  seen  in  its 
transparent  depths.  Here  they  threw  in  their  hooks,  with 
tempting  baits  ;  they  tried  alternately  worms  and  flies  ; 
from  the  shallow  falls,  where  the  singing  water  came  rush 
ing  down  from  above,  to  the  stony  shelves  at  the  mouth  of 
the  basin,  where  the  crystal  sheet  burst  once  more  into 
bubbles  and  sparkles  of  foam,  they  left  no  spot  unvisited 
by  their  lines.  But  neither  perch  nor  pickerel  nor  trout 
could  be  allured. 

"  What  fools  they  be !  "  cried  the  indignant  Bim.  "  I 
put  my  hook  right  up  to  their  mouths,  and  they  don't 
know  enough  to  swaller  it." 

Mr.  Jackwood  reluctantly  wound  up  his  lines. 

"  I  tell  ye  what,  Bim'lech,  there's  no  use  wastin'  time  in 
this  ?ere  wretched  hole.  We'll  be  sure  o'  ketchin'  suthin' 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river." 

Below  the  bridge,  they  undertook  to  follow  the  bed  of 
the  stream.  For  some  distance  they  experienced  no  diffi 
culty;  they  enjoyed  excellent  advantages  for  fishing,  as 
they  proceeded,  with  the  exception  of  the  simple  fact  that 
no  fish  would  bite ;  but  at  length  the  narrow  channel  to 
which  the  stream  had  shrunk  during  the  dry  weather  be 
gan  to  widen  and  shift  its  course,  and  it  became  necessary 
to  cross  over  to  the  white  fields  of  dry  stones  that  now 
made  their  appearance  on  the  other  side.  The  round  bowl- 


THE  MOUTH  OF   WILD  EIVER  27 

ders,  covered  with  the  scum  of  dried  slime,  proved  treach 
erous  footholds,  rolling  and  turning  on  the  slippery  stones 
beneath  them,  and  perilling  the  balance  even  of  the  careful 
and  sagacious  Mr.  Jackwood.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  great 
splashing  behind  him,  and  looked  around.  Abimelech  was 
tloundering  in  the  water,  and  endeavoring  to  regain  a  foot 
ing  on  the  stones. 

"  Careless  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  There,  there, 
stan'  still !  The  water  won't  drownd  ye ;  'tain't  up  to 
your  knees.  Now,  what  need  was  there  o'  gittiii'  in  all 
over?" 

He  was  still  speaking,  when  the  bowlder  on  which  he 
imagined  himself  firmly  planted  began  to  revolve.  To 
preserve  his  balance,  he  stepped  carefully  forward ;  but 
the  boy  had  spattered  all  that  side  of  the  rock,  and,  Mr. 
Jackwood's  foot  resting  on  a  spot  as  slippery  as  glass,  he 
slid,  with  a  great  splash,  into  the  water,  bringing  down  the 
rattling  fish-poles  in  rather  dangerous  style  on  the  crown 
of  Abimelech's  head. 

"  0,  0,  0  ! "  screamed  the  boy,  pitching  about  once  more 
in  the  water. 

"  Ketch  holt  o'  my  hand ! "  cried  the  elder  Jackwood. 
"  This  all  comes  o'  your  wantin'  to  go  a-hshin' ! " 

Bim  cried  desolately ;  and,  having  reached  the  dry  stones, 
stood  with  distended  hands  and  feet,  dripping  like  a  newly 
washed  sheep. 

"  D'  I  hurt  your  head  ?  "  asked  his  father,  touched  with 
remorse. 

"  Ye-e-s  !  You  mos'  broke  it !  "  snuffled  Bim.  "  Oh,  you 
h-u-r-t !  "  —  as  Mr.  Jackwood,  with  paternal  solicitude,  ex 
amined  his  crown.  "It's  bad  enough,  I  should  tliiak,  to 
kill  a  feller  'thout  scoldin'  him  for't  afterwards." 

"Don't  talk  so!"  said  his  father  sternly.  "Ye  ain't 
hurt  much,  I  guess,  arter  all  the  fuss." 

"  Yes  I  be  too  ! "  whined  Abimelech,  holding  his  head  in 
his  hands.  "  You'd  think  so  if  you'd  ben  knocked  over 
with  a  couple  o'  thunderin'  great  poles." 


28  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  There,  don't  swear  !  I  guess  now  we'll  go  hum ;  we've 
had  about  sport  enough  for  one  day." 

The  injured  Bim  became  suddenly  pacified. 

"I  don't  want  ter  go  hum,"  giving  his  crown  a  final 
rub,  and  putting  on  his  straw  hat.  "I  can  git  dry  in  a 
little  while.  My  head  feels  better  now." 

Mr.  Jackwood  sat  down  and  emptied  the  water  out  of  his 
boots.  His  hopeful  heir  followed  his  example  ;  and  after 
wards  divested  himself  of  his  trousers,  in  order  to  wring 
them  out  and  hang  them  on  the  bushes  to  dry.  Then,  in  a 
light  and  picturesque  costume,  he  went  hopping  about  on 
the  stones,  with  his  fishing  apparatus,  and  caught  a  fine 
brace  of  trout  during  the  ensuing  half-hour. 

"I  declare,"  said  his  father,  "if  you  don't  beat  the 
Dutch !  I  hain't  had  a  nibble  yit." 

"  Oh,  my  ! "  cried  the  excited  boy,  "  there  is  a  smashin' 
big  feller  !  "  But  the  charm  was  now  broken  ;  no  more  luck 
had  he ;  so  he  hastened  to  tie  his  freshly  washed  garment 
to  his  fish-pole,  and  waving  it  in  the  air  like  a  forked  ban 
ner,  followed  his  father  down  the  river. 

He  was  soon  glad,  however,  to  strike  his  flag,  and  restore 
it  to  the  use  for  which  it  was  originally  intended.  In  con 
sequence  of  recent  freshets,  the  river  had  changed  its  bed 
a  dozen  times ;  the  valley  appeared  ploughed  up  with 
ravines,  which  branched  out  in  every  direction.  The  dry 
fields  of  stones  had  disappeared ;  the  stream  became  slug 
gish  and  dark,  creeping  over  the  black  ooze  of  the  interval ; 
and  the  grass  on  the  banks  now  grew  so  thick  and  rank  and 
high,  that  the  boy  became  disheartened. 

"  I  can't  go  no  fu'ther ! "  he  complained.  "  There's 
brakes  an'  nettles  an'  everything  to  bother  a  feller.  I'm 
afraid  o'  snakes." 

"  Keep  up  good  pluck  !  "  cried  his  father.  "  Here's  the 
crick,  close  by." 

What  was  taken  for  the  creek  proved  to  be  an  old  bed, 
with  a  black  and  shining  pool  of  water  fast  asleep  in  it, 


THE  MOUTH  OF  WILD  RIVER  29 

between  crumbling  banks.  To  go  around  it  was  a  labor 
replete  with  pain  and  difficulty.  It  led  over  flats  full  of 
dangerous  sloughs ;  then  other  such  pools  appeared,  in  the 
midst  of  which  our  adventurers  became  confused.  Some 
times  they  mistook  the  river  for  the  creek ;  more  than  once 
they  mistook  the  creek  for  the  river ;  and  finally  there  ap 
peared  to  be  numberless  rivers  and  creeks  winding  in  every 
direction. 

"  There  ! "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood  at  length,  "  there's  the 
crick  this  time,  't  any  rate.  We'll  find  it  miff  easier  goiir* 
on  t'other  side,  to  pay  for  crossin'  over ;  then  we  can  go  up 
to  Dunbery's  old  bridge,  an'  so  hum.  It's  go'n'  to  rain ;  an' 
I  don't  see  any  gre't  chance  for  fishin'  here,  arter  all.'7 

"  But  we  can't  cross  here  ! "  whined  the  disappointed 
Abimeleck  ;  "  the  water's  a  mile  deep." 

"  What  a  boy  you  be  to  stretch  a  story  ! "  exclaimed  Mr. 
Jackwood.  "  Here  is  a  good  place  to  ford." 

He  rolled  up  his  trousers  above  his  knees,  and  carried 
Abimeleck  over  on  his  back ;  when,  reaching  the  opposite 
bank,  he  sat  down  to  pull  on  his  boots,  which  the  boy  had 
brought  over  in  his  hands. 

"  Where's  my  stockin's  ?  " 

"  I  d'n'  know ;  I  hain't  seen  'em,';  replied  the  boy. 

"  You  don'  know  !  Why  don't  you  know  ?  I  told  you 
to  take  care  on  'em." 

"  I  guess  you  laid  'em  down  on  t'other  side." 

"  An'  I  got  to  go  back  arter  'em  !  I  wish  you'd  larn  to 
keep  your  wits  about  ye  ! " 

Mr.  Jackwood  arose,  and  rolling  up  his  trousers  again, 
although  the  water-mark  was  some  inches  above  their  ut 
most  elevation,  returned  to  the  opposite  bank.  Bat  no 
socks  were  to  be  found. 

"  You  let  'em  drop  in  the  water,  sartin  as  the  world  !  " 
he  exclaimed,  giving  up  the  search.  Abimelech  protested 
against  the  injustice  of  this  charge.  "  Oh,  you're  a  terrible 
innocent  boy  !  "  sitting  down  and  straining  at  the  straps 


30  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

of  one  of  his  boots.  "  Now  what's  to  pay,  I  wonder  ? 
What  ye  ben  puttin'  in  this  boot  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  withdrew  his  foot,  put  in  his  hand,  and 
extracted  a  stocking. 

"  If  it  don't  beat  all !  I  remember  now.  I  did  tuck  'em 
in  my  boots ;  an'  they're  so  wet  they  dropped  clean  down 
into  the  toes." 

"  Blame  me,  will  ye,  next  time  !  "  muttered  Bim.  "  Oh, 
'f  course  I  lost  'em  in  the  river  ! " 

"  Is  that  the  way  to  talk  to  your  father  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Jackwood  solemnly.  "  You  better  be  careful !  " 

Abimelech  continued  to  mutter  ;  but  his  father  suggest 
ing  significantly  that  he'd  do  well  to  wait  till  he  got  his 
boots  on,  he  hushed,  and  contented  himself  with  looking 
sullen.  Resuming  their  tramp,  they  had  not  proceeded  far, 
when  he  began  to  grumble  again,  very  faintly. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  cried  his  father  sharply,  looking  around. 

"  I  could  'a'  ketched  'nough  fish,  if  you'd  le'  me  stayed 
where  I  was.  Might  'a'  knowed  we  couldn't  do  nothin' 
down  here." 

«  Where's  the  fish  you  did  ketch  ?  " 

"  I  d'n'  know !  I  guess  I  —  I  left  'em  on  the  ground 
where  you  put  your  boots  on  ! "  beginning  to  cry. 

"  Wai,  wal,  never  mind,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood  ;  "  'twon't 
take  long  to  go  back  arter  'em.  Cheer  up,  an'  I'll  go  on 
an'  see  what  them  bushes  look  like,  ahead  here." 

Ten  minutes  later  Mr.  Jackwood  shouted,  — 

"  Hurrah,  Bim'lech  !  where  be  ye  ?  " 

"  I  can't  find  my  fish ! "  cried  the  boy ;  "  somebody's 
come  an'  stole  'em  ! " 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning, 
which  lit  up  the  entire  canopy  of  the  sky,  and  a  heavy 
drop  plashed  upon  Abimelech's  hand.  He  had  explored  the 
bank  in  vain,  while  all  the  time  the  little  willow  twig,  on 
which  the  fish  were  strung,  peeped  out  of  the  trampled 
grass  before  his  eyes.  Agitated  and  blind  with  tears,  he 


THE  MOUTH  OF   WILD   IUVEE  31 

could  not  see  it ;  and  now,  abandoning  the  search,  he  at 
tempted  to  return  to  his  father. 

"  Here  ! "  shouted  Mr.  Jackwood,  sending  up  his  hat  on 
the  end  of  a  pole  as  a  signal,  "  do  ye  see  this  ?  " 

Thrusting  the  pole  into  the  ground,  he  was  on  the  point 
of  going  in  pursuit  of  the  boy,  when  his  attention  was  at 
tracted  by  a  cry  in  another  direction.  He  paused  and  hal 
looed.  The  cry  was  repeated.  It  sounded  like  that  of 
some  person  in  distress.  Leaving  Abimelech,  therefore,  to 
make  the  best  of  his  way  out  of  the  grass,  Mr.  Jackwood 
advanced  upon  the  rotting  timber  of  a  bridge  thrown  across 
the  creek. 

Beyond  was  an  old  barn,  that  stood  half-hidden  by  the 
willows  and  young  elms,  festooned  with  vines,  that  grew 
by  the  stream ;  and  as  the  voice  sounded  in  that  direction, 
he  kept  on  until  there  arose  suddenly  before  him  out  of  the 
grass  what  seemed  the  bent  form  of  an  old  woman,  leaning 
upon  a  staff. 

"  It's  some  plaguy  old  witch  or  Another  !  "  he  muttered  to 
himself. 

She  attempted  to  approach  him,  whereupon  he  made  a 
step  backward  towards  the  bridge. 

"  Oh,  sir.  if  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  help  me  !  "  she  said, 
her  feet  tripping  in  the  tangled  grass. 

"  Wai,  I  ain't  a  man  to  pass  by  on  t'other  side  when 
there's  suff'rin'  in  the  way,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "What 
'pears  to  be  the  matter,  hey  ?  " 

"I  have  lost  my  way,"  answered  the  woman  faintly, 
"  and  I  can  go  no  farther." 

"Tuckered  out,  hey?  Wai,  that's  bad!  But  you  can 
manage  to  git  up  to  the  road,  can't  ye  ?"  cried  Mr.  Jack  wood 
cheerily.  "  Only  think  you  can,  and  you  can,  you  know. 
Mebby  I  can  help.  You'll  find  a  warm  supper  an'  a  good 
comf'table  shelter  some'eres,  I  promise  ye." 

He  extended  his  hand:  the  woman  clasped  it  convul 
sively. 


32  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  You  will  be  my  friend  ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  strange 
vehemence  —  "  something  tells  me  that  I  can  trust  you ! " 

"  My  name's  Jackwood ;  I  live  on  the  crick,  jest  above 
here.  Everybody  knows  Bim'lech  Jackwood,"  replied  the 
farmer.  "  But  seems  to  me  you  don't  'pear  quite  so  old  as 
I  took  you  to  be  at  fust." 

"  I  am  not  old.  I  have  been  obliged  to  appear  so  for 
safety.  You  will  not  betray  me  ! " 

"  Don't  be  afraid/'  exclaimed  Mr.  Jackwood,  with  hearty 
sympathy. 

"Let  me  appear  to  you  as  I  am  then."  And  the  stranger 
removed  a  pair  of  green  spectacles  that  concealed  her  eyes ; 
took  off  the  bonnet  that  almost  covered  her  face  ;  put  back 
from  her  forehead  the  old-woman's  cap,  with  its  wig  of  gray 
hair  attached,  and  discovered  thick  masses  of  dark  hair 
loosened  and  falling  down  her  neck. 


THE  STRANGER  AND   THE  STORM  33 


II 

THE    STRANGER    AND    THE    STORM 

MR.  JACKWOOD  stood  astonished.  Such  eyes  —  such 
wonderfully  soft  and  lustrous  eyes  —  he  had  never  seen 
before. 

"  Why,  do  tell,  now  !  I  never  had  anything  conie  over 
me  so  in  all  my  born  days !  Then  them  'ere  marks  on  your 
face  t'  look  like  wrinkles  ain't  nat'ral,  hey  ?  " 

"  I  will  go  to  the  water  and  wash  them  off,"  replied  the 
stranger.  "  But  don't  question  me,  nor  ever  speak  of  this." 

Just  then  Abimelech  was  heard  screaming  frantically. 

"  I  shall  haf  to  go  for  that  boy,  sartin's  the  world  ! "  ex 
claimed  the  farmer.  "  How  do  ye  feel  now  ?  Think  you 
can  walk  a  hundred  rods  or  so  ?  " 

"  I  can  do  anything  you  wish,"  said  the  wanderer ;  "  you 
give  me  new  strength." 

"That's  more  like  it !  that's  the  way  to  talk !  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  we  git  home  now  'fore  it  rains  to  speak  of.  Only, 
when  you've  washed,  if  you'll  make  an  effort  and  creep 
along  slow,  —  this  'ere's  the  track,  ye  know ;  keep  where 
the  grass  is  thin,  —  it'll  give  Bim'lech  an'  me  a  chance,  an' 
we'll  overtake  you  'fore  you  git  fur." 

And  so,  with  a  parting  word  of  cheer,  Mr.  Jackwood  dis 
appeared  behind  the  elms.  Left  alone,  the  girl  made  haste 
to  wash  her  hands  and  face  ;  then,  having  thrown  away  her 
staff,  and  carefully  concealed  the  wig,  cap,  and  spectacles 
about  her  person,  she  resumed  the  old  bonnet,  which  cor 
responded  well  with  the  rest  of  her  attire,  and  set  out  to 
walk  slowly  along  the  track  indicated  by  Mr.  Jackwood. 


34  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Abimelech's  voice  meanwhile  grew  fainter  and  fainter; 
and  after  a  baffling  search,  his  father  found  him  sunk  to 
his  knees  in  the  black  mud  of  a  slough.  He  dragged  him 
out,  shouldered  him,  and  carried  him  off  bodily. 

"  Hush  up !  hush  up !  You  ain't  dead,  arter  all.  You 
can't  guess  what  I  have  found  out  here.  It's  suthin'  bet- 
ter'n  two  little  mis'ble  trout." 

"  Is't  a  otter  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  with  a  sudden  lull  in  his 
lamentations. 

"  You'll  see,  you'll  see.     Don't  say  nothin',  but  laugh." 

Reaching  the  bridge,  Mr.  Jackwood  set  him  on  his  feet, 
shouldered  the  fish-poles  in  his  place,  and,  walking  on, 
pointed  out  the  stranger. 

"  That's  the  way  you  alluz  fool  me  !  I  thought  you'd  got 
suthin'  !  Heugh  !  a  woman  !  an'  a  beggar  woman  too  !  " 

"  Stop  that !  "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  You  talk  like  a 
young  heathen.  Ain't  we  commanded  to  help  the  needy  ? 
What's  the  use  o'  your  goin'  to  Sunday-school,  I'd  like  to 
know  ?  " 

"  Who  is  she,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Hush ! "  with  a  significant  motion  of  the  hand.  "  Hem ! H 
coughed  the  farmer,  preparatory  to  addressing  the  stranger. 
"  Keep  a  little  back,  Bim'lech !  Hem  !  you  'pear  to  be 
doin'  perty  well ;  feel  better,  don't  ye  ?  If  you  take  my 
arm  now,  I  guess  we'll  git  along  finely." 

The  stranger  accepted  the  offer  —  and  need  enough  there 
seemed  that  he  should  assist  her  weary  footsteps.  She 
turned  upon  him,  as  she  did  so,  the  light  of  those  wonderful 
eyes,  and  smiled  a  grateful  smile,  which  appeared  to  struggle 
against  embarrassment  and  fatigue. 

"  Did  you  come  from  the  north  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  faltered,  —  "I  mean,  no,  sir.  I  came,  I  think, 
from  that  direction,"  pointing  at  the  old  Bear  Back,  the 
highest  and  most  rugged  of  the  western  range  of  moun 
tains  that  bounded  the  interval.  "  I  followed  a  road  till  I 
lost  it  in  the  woods,  then  I  tried  to  cross  the  valley." 


TUE  STRANGER  AND   THE  STORM  85 

"  You  follered  that  'ere  road  ?  You  was  travellin'  north 
then  ?  I  ain't  none  o'  the  pryin'  sort,  but  seems  to  me  I've 
seen  you  som'eres.  Is  your  name  Burbank  ?  " 

"No,  and  I  was  never  in  this  part  of  the  country  before." 

"  You're  a  native  o'  York  State,  then,  I  conclude  ?  No  ? 
Mebby,  then,  you've  ben  to  work  in  the  factories,  down  to 
Lowell  an'  Lawrence.  I've  got  a  darter  't  's  talked  some  o' 
try  in'  her  hand  at  that  business  j  she  would,  in  a  minute,  if 
I'd  let  her.  No  ?  Wai,  never  mind.  I  forgit  what  you 
said  your  name  was." 

"  Say,  father,"  interrupted  Abimelech,  "  the  rain's  corn- 
in'  like  great  guns  !  I  never  heard  the  mountain  roar  so  in 
all  my  life  !  Do  look  !  how  the  trees  thrash  about !  See 
'em  !  see  'em  !  all  over  the  mountain  !  How  dark  it  grows  ! " 

"We  shall  have  it  here  in  a  minute,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood. 

"A  leetle  grain  faster,  if  you  can  's  well  's  not,  Miss 

Did  1  understand  you  to  say  your  name  was"  - 

At  that  moment  a  swift  squad  of  the  storm,  charging 
down  from  the  mountain  with  volleys  of  arrowy  rain,  swept 
over  our  little  party.  The  elm-trees  trembled,  and  reeled, 
and  tossed  their  long  green  hair,  while  the  tall  grass  of  the 
interval  rose  and  fell  and  whirled  in  eddies,  like  a  sea. 

"There  goes  my  hat !"  screamed  Abimelech. 

It  lodged  in  the  grass,  and  his  father  caught  it  with  his 
fish-pole.  The  boy  sprang  to  seize  it,  and  pulled  it  on  his 
head  with  such  desperation  as  to  tear  away  the  rim,  and 
leave  a  liberal  rent  for  his  hair  to  flutter  through ;  and  thus, 
with  the  appearance  of  holding  himself  down  by  the  ears, 
he  scudded  on  before  the  gale.  His  companions  followed 
more  slowly ;  the  stranger,  in  fluttering  attire,  clinging  to 
her  friend,  and  Mr.  Jackwood,  looking  solid  and  responsi 
ble  under  his  burden,  snuffing  the  squall  complacently,  and 
dragging  the  fish-poles  after. 


36  NEIGHBOR  JAGKWOOD 


m 

A    VERMONT    FARMHOUSE 

THOROUGHLY  drenched,  the  little  party  arrived  at  the 
farmhouse. 

"  Why !  my  sakes  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Jackwood,  as  the  kitchen 
door  flew  open,  and  they  came  in  with  the  lashing  rain, 
"  I  never  see  !  Do  shet  the  door  quick,  Bim'lech !  Is  this 
'Tildy  Fosdick  ?  " 

In  the  gloom  she  mistook  her  husband's  companion  for 
one  of  the  neighbors.  Mr.  Jackwood  corrected  the  error. 

"  La,  wal !  I  s'pose  we  can  keep  her  one  night,  't  any 
rate,"  said  his  wife.  "  Soppin'  wet,  ain't  ye  ?  Be  ye  'fraid 
o'  ketchin'  cold  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't  think  of  that/'  answered  the  girl  shiver- 
ingly. 

"Wal,  come  to  the  stove,  an'  warm  ye,"  and  Mrs.  Jack- 
wood  drew  up  the  high-backed  rocking-chair.  "  Set  here. 
Phoebe,  put  in  some  more  wood.  I  s'pose  I  might  let 
you  have  one  o'  my  ol'  gowns  to  put  on ;  I  guess  I  better. 
You  don't  look  very  tough.  I'll  take  your  wet  bunnit." 

Mrs.  Jackwood  hung  the  drenched  article  upon  a  peg; 
then,  having  lighted  a  lamp,  she  turned  once  more  to  the 
stranger. 

"  Dear  me ! "  betraying  a  lively  emotion,  "  you  ain't 
stubbid,  be  ye  ?  You  don't  look  fit  to  be  trav'Un'  in  this 
way.  Whereabouts  is  yer  home  ?  " 

The  girl  appeared  to  make  an  effort  to  speak. 

"  Don't  be  axin'  questions,  mother,"  spoke  up  Mr.  Jack- 
wood.  "You  see,"  he  added  considerately,  in  an  under- 


A    VERMONT  FARMHOUSE  37 

tone,  "it  hurts  her  feelin's.       I   shall  have  to  git  ye  to 
speak  yer  name  once  more,  if  ye  please." 

"  Charlotte  Woods,"  articulated  the  stranger. 

"  Cha'lotte  Woods,"  repeated  the  farmer,  with  an  air  of 
thoughtful  interest.    "  Go  'way,  Phoebe,"  -  —  in  a  whisper,  — 
"don't  stan'  starin'  at  her!       There's  a  Woods  under  the 
mountain  ;  is  he  any  relation  ?  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  She  was  apparently  about 
eighteen  years  of  age  ;  but  her  features,  of  delicate  mould, 
and  of  a  soft,  brunette  complexion,  bordering  upon  the 
olive,  showed  traces  of  passion  and  suffering  rarely  seen 
in  one  so  young.  Her  eyes  were  tremulously  downcast, 
and  her  slender  hands  clasped  across  her  lap  in  an  attitude 
of  intense  emotion.  The  contrast  of  her  humble,  drenched 
attire,  and  the  yellow  lamplight  that  fell  upon  it,  made  a 
strange  picture  in  the  gloomy  farmhouse.  A  respectful 
hush  followed  the  farmer's  last  question,  all  eyes  regard 
ing  the  unknown  guest  with  wonder  and  pity. 

"  Where's  all  yer  fish  ? ';  Mrs.  Jackwood  at  last  thought  to 
inquire.  "  The  cat'll  eat  'em  up  if  they're  under  the  stoop." 

"  I  guess  all  we  brought  home  won't  hurt  her  if  she  eats 
bones  an'  all,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood. 

"  Why,  didn't  ye  ketch  none  ?  " 

"  I  ketched  two  trouts,  real  nice  ones,  an'  lost  'em," 
snivelled  Bim,  in  the  corner. 

"  What  ye  cryin'  about  ?  " 

"  I  tore  my  knee  all  open.  I  was  runnin'  on  ahead,  an' 
fell  down,  right  onto  a  great  rock." 

"Wai,  wal,  you'll  feel  better  arter  supper,"  said  his 
father.  "  You  needn't  help  about  the  chores  to-night. 
You've  had  a  perty  hard  time  on't  this  arternoon,  that's  a 
fact.  You  won't  want  to  go  a-fishin'  agin  very  soon,  will 
ye  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  to  Wild  Eiver ! "  mumbled  the 
aggrieved  Bim.  "  They're  the  meanest  fish  !  My  fust  two 
nibbles  was  bites,  then  all  ray  other  bites  was  nibbles." 


38  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Meanwhile  supper  was  waiting,  only  the  tea  was  to  be 
drawn ;  and  Mr.  Jackwood  proposed  that  they  should  "  set 
right  down."  But  the  stranger  felt  too  faint  to  think  of 
food. 

"Wai,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
"  I  guess  I'll  go  an'  milk,  an'  have  the  chores  done  up  'fore 
supper.  If  you  git  ready  to  se'  down,  don't  wait  for  me." 

He  took  the  rattling  milk-pails  from  the  pantry,  and 
went  out  in  the  darkness  and  storm  to  finish  the  labors  of 
the  day.  He  fed  the  squealing  pigs,  and  stopped  their 
noise ;  gave  the  bleating  calves  their  supper ;  and  returned, 
at  length,  to  the  kitchen,  bearing  two  brimming  pails  of 
milk  —  and  rain-water. 

He  found  his  guest  still  sitting  by  the  stove,  reposing 
languidly  in  the  high-backed  chair ;  having,  in  the  mean 
time,  put  on  the  dry  gown  Mrs.  Jackwood  had  offered 
her. 

"  Wai,  how  d'  ye  find  yourself  arter  your  shower-bath  ?  " 
he  inquired  cheerily.  "  Think  ye  can  eat  a  little  supper, 
now  ?  Can,  hey  ?  That's  right ;  turn  right  'round  here. 
Come,  Phoebe,  — Bim'lech,  what  ye  waitin'  fur  ?  Where'll 
she  set,  mother  ?  " 

"She  can  set  in  Bim'lech's  place;  he's  had  his  supper. 
He  was  so  hungry,  he  couldn't  wait ;  so  he  took  a  bowl  o' 
bread-an'-milk  in  his  hand." 

"  I  didn't  eat  enough  !    That  was  nothin'  but  a  luncheon." 

"  What !  that  great  bowl  o'  bread-an'-milk  ?  I  wonder 
what  your  stomach  is  made  of  ! n 

"Never  mind;  let  him  come  to  the  table  if  he  wants  to," 
said  Mr.  Jackwood,  whose  heart  grew  big  and  warm  in  the 
glow  of  the  homely  old  kitchen.  "  There's  plenty  o'  room. 
Fix  him  a  place,  Phoebe.  I  don't  see  the  need  of  anybody's 
starvin'  in  my  house." 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  getting  a  plate :  "  It's  all  foolishness 
eat'n'  two  suppers,  — one  jest  'fore  goin'  to  bed  too;  that's 
all  I  care  about  it." 


A    VERMONT  FARMHOUSE  39 

"  Bim  thinks  he  deserves  two  suppers  for  bringing  home 
so  many  fish  ! "  said  Phoebe. 

Abimelech,  exasperated :  "  Make  her  stop,  father.  I 
should  think  she'd  said  enough  about  that ! " 

"  There,  there,  there,  children,  don't  quarrel !  What 
makes  ye  want  to  pester  him  so,  Phoebe  ?  You  shouldn't 
mind  it,  my  son ;  you  should  be  above  sich  things.  There's 
a  plate  for  ye ;  bring  yer  chair  along.  Hush,  now." 

The  farmer  said  grace  in  the  stereotype  phrase  of  years ; 
but  an  allusion  to  the  wanderer  beneath  his  roof,  and  the 
wind  and  the  rain  without,  —  awkwardly  interpolated,  it  is 
true,  yet  spoken  with  simple  earnestness,  —  rendered  the 
prayer  vital  and  touching. 

"  Bim  kept  making  faces  at  me  all  the  time  you  was  ask 
ing  the  blessing  ! "  said  Phoebe. 

"  Birn'lech,  did  you  do  that  ? "  asked  Mr.  Jackwood 
solemnly. 

Abimelech,  with  an  air  of  innocence :  "  Xo,  I  didn't ! 
There  was  a  'skeeter  buzzin'  'round  my  face,  an'  I  squinted 
to  scare  him  away,  that's  all.  If  she  hadn't  ben  lookin'  she 
wouldn't  'a  seen  me." 

Phoebe  :  "  What  a  story  !  There  ain't  a  musquito  in  the 
house ! " 

"  That'll  do  !  Don't  le'  me  hear  no  more  complaints. 
We've  got  plain  fare,"-  — the  farmer  turned  to  his  guest,— 
"  but  it's  hulsome.  Here's  ho'-made  bread  an'  sweet 
butter,  an'  fresh  milk  ;  some  dried  beef,  too,  if  ye  like ; 
an'  mother'll  give  ye  a  good  stiff  cup  o'  tea,  to  raise  yer 
sperrits.  Then  there's  a  pie  I'll  ventur'  to  recommend, 
bime-by." 

"  Mother  !  I  —  want  —  a  —  piece  —  of  —  pie  !  " 

"  You  needn't  whine  so  like  a  great  baby,  if  you  do  ! 
You  may  give  him  a  piece,  Phoebe." 

"  Phceb'  needn't  be  so  p'tic'lar  to  pick  out  the  smallest 
piece  !  I'll  have  two  pieces,  now,  see  if  I  don't  !  Mayn't 
I,  father  ?  " 


40  NEIGHBOR  J ACK WOOD 

"  Eat  that  fust,  then  we'll  see." 

"  I  want  some  cheese  with  it !  Come,  you  needn't  help 
me,  Phoeb' !  Jest  pass  the  plate,  an'  le'  me  help  myself. 
How  darned  generous  you  be ! " 

«  Bim'lech  ! " 

"What!" 

Mr.  Jackwood  severely :  "  Le'  me  hear  any  more  sich 
talk  an'  you'll  go  right  away  from  the  table,  —  mind 
now ! " 

The  boy  muttered  something  in  self-defence,  with  his 
mouth  full ;  but  his  father's  attention  was  at  that  moment 
drawn  to  his  guest.  For  some  time  she  had  been  vainly 
endeavoring  to  eat.  The  bounty  spread  before  her,  the 
kindness  of  her  new  friends,  and  the  thought  of  rest  and 
shelter  while  the  storm  raged  without,  filled  her  heart  to 
suffocating  fulness ;  and  too  weak  to  control  her  emotions, 
but  instinctively  seeking  to  conceal  them,  she  attempted 
to  rise  from  the  table.  The  pallor  and  distress  of  her  fea 
tures,  and  the  strangeness  of  her  movements,  alarmed  the 
farmer ;  but,  before  he  could  speak,  a  sudden  dizziness  seized 
her,  and  she  sank  to  the  floor. 

"  Massy  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jackwood,  starting  from  the 
table.  "  I  believe  she's  f aintin' !  Hold  her,  father,  while 
I  bring  the  camfire  ! " 

In  her  agitation  she  rushed  into  the  pantry,  and  began 
to  search  in  the  dark  for  the  camphor,  —  knocking  over 
two  or  three  bottles  in  the  operation,  and  laying  her  hand 
on  the  right  one  at  the  precise  moment  when  it  was  no 
longer  needed. 

At  the  same  time  Phoebe  hastened  to  pour  some  hot 
water  out  of  the  teakettle,  with  what  object  in  view  she 
was  never  very  well  able  to  explain.  She  poured  it  into 
the  colander,  which  happened  to  be  the  first  utensil  in  her 
reach;  and  the  colander,  acting  like  a  sieve,  sprinkled  it 
in  a  plentiful  shower  upon  her  foot.  In  consequence  of 
this  catastrophe,  she  was  nervously  occupied  in  ascertaining 


A    VERMONT  FARMHOUSE  41 

the  extent  of  her  burns,  while  Mr.  Jackwood  was  thus  left 
alone  to  support  the  form  of  the  fainting  girl. 

"  A  cup  o'  water  ! "  he  cried,  lifting  her  to  the  chair. 
"  Don't  be  scart,  boy.  She'll  come  to  arter  a  little  sprink- 
lin'.  Be  quick  !  " 

Abimelech  heard  only  "  cup,  sprinkle,  quick,"  and  actu 
ated  by  the  same  benevolence  of  impulse  which  had  set  his 
mother  rattling  the  bottles,  and  his  sister  pouring  hot  water, 
he  seized  the  milk-cup  from  the  tea-tray,  and  spilled  its 
contents  partly  in  the  stranger's  hair,  partly  in  her  left  ear. 

"Not  that!"  ejaculated  his  father.  "Don't  you  know 
nothin'  ?  Water  ! " 

Thereupon  the  boy  caught  up  one  of  the  empty  milk- 
pails,  and,  hastening  to  the  sink-room,  commenced  pumping 
violently. 

By  this  time  the  swooning  girl  began  to  revive.  Indeed, 
her  consciousness  had  at  no  time  been  entirely  lost.  Her 
soul  had  been  sinking,  sinking,  like  a  candle  let  down  into 
the  dark  of  a  deep  well ;  and  in  a  still  place,  gleaming  with 
a  faint  ray,  just  above  the  waters  of  oblivion,  it  had  waited, 
as  it  were,  to  be  drawn  up. 

Mr.  Jackwood's  care  was  now  to  wipe  away  the  milk 
which  streaked  her  hair  and  cheek  and  neck.  Acciden 
tally  disarranging  her  dress  in  the  operation,  he  started 
back  with  an  involuntary  exclamation  of  pain  and  pity. 
Tier  full  throat  was  exposed ;  and  just  below  it,  in  startling 
contrast  with  her  full,  voluptuous  beauty,  appeared  a  sharp 
cut,  as  of  a  pointed  blade.  The  wound  w^as  evidently  not 
so  new  but  it  might  have  been  partially  healed  ;  some 
recent  hurt,  however,  —  perhaps  the  fall  from  the  chair,  — 
had  opened  it  afresh,  and  now  a  fine  crimson  stream  was 
traced  upon  her  white  breast. 

WTith  a  quick,  instinctive  movement,  she  covered  the 
wound  from  sight. 

"It's  nothing;  a  little  hurt,"  —  clasping  her  hand  over 
her  bosom. 


42  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

Mr.  Jackwood  was  speechless  with  embarrassment ;  but 
the  cry  which  had  escaped  his  lips,  alarming  the  family, 
brought  them  simultaneously  to  his  relief.  Mrs.  Jackwood 
appeared  with  her  camphor-bottle,  shaking  it,  with  her 
hand  over  the  nose ;  Phoebe  ran  up,  with  a  shoe  in  one 
hand  and  the  colander  in  the  other ;  while  Abimelech 
staggered  in  from  the  sink-room,  swinging  a  full  pail  of 
milky  water. 

"  There,  there,  mother  ! "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood,  as  his  wife 
began  to  bathe  the  patient's  forehead ;  "  that'll  do ;  it'll  only 
be  unpleasant  to  her." 

"'Twon't  do  no  harm,"  replied  the  good  woman,  apply 
ing  the  camphor  to  the  sufferer's  nose.  "  How  do  you  feel 
now  ?  " 

"  Better  —  quite  well,"  gasped  the  poor  girl,  pushing 
the  bottle  feebly  away. 

"  Look  at  Bim  ! "  exclaimed  the  excited  Phoebe.  "  What 
are  you  going  to  do  with  that  water  ?  " 

"  Father  told  me  to  !  "  cried  Bim.  "  What  are  you  goin' 
to  do  with  the  colander  ?  You  needn't  say  nothin'  ! " 

"  Open  yer  eyes,  if  it's  as  convenient  as  not,"  suggested 
Mr.  Jackwood  ;  "  I  want  to  see  how  you  look." 

The  stranger's  large,  soft,  hazel  eyes  partly  opened,  but 
closed  again  heavily. 

"  My  eyelids  are  stiff,"  she  said,  with  an  expression  of 
pain. 

"  Put  some  butter  on  to  'em,  that'll  limber  'em,"  whis 
pered  the  boy  hoarsely,  in  his  father's  ear.  "  Say,  shall 
I  ?  " 

"  Git  away  with  yer  nonsense ! "  said  Mr.  Jackwood, 
with  a  threatening  gesture.  "  She's  got  a  dre'ful  bad  hurt 
on  her  breast,"  he  whispered  to  his  wife  ;  "  an'  I  think 
she'd  better  have  suthin'  done  for't." 

"  It's  not  much,"  said  the  guest.  "  If  I  can  be  a  little 
while  alone  — 

"  Take  her  into  your  room,  mother." 


A    VERMONT  FARMHOUSE  43 

Still  holding  her  hand  upon  her  breast,  the  girl  ?,rose, 
and,  with  Mrs.  Jackwood's  assistance,  reached  the  adjoin 
ing  room.  Becoming  faint  again,  she  sat  down,  and,  after 
some  hesitation,  suffered  the  good  woman  to  look  at  her 
wound. 

"  Massy  me,  if  'tain' t  a  cut !  It  bleeds  a  stream  !  Poor 
thing  !  How  did  you  git  hurt  so  ?  " 

"I  —  I  —  it  was  —  an  accident." 

"  It  looks  as  though  you  had  been  stabbed  with  a  knife ! 
Phoebe,  bring  me  a  basin  o'  water,  an'  be  quick." 

"  Cold  water  ?  "  cried  Phoebe. 

"  Pour  in  out  o'  the  tea-kittle  jest  enough  to  take  off  the 
chill,"  said  her  mother.  "  Don't  be  all  night  about  it." 

Mrs.  Jackwood  hastened  to  a  tall  bureau  in  the  corner, 
and  took  from  it  some  linen  for  the  wound. 

"What  did  ye  ever  have  done  for't  ? "  she  asked,  get 
ting  down  again  beside  the  guest. 

"I  can't  tell,  —  not  much." 

"  Didn't  you  never  have  no  healin'  plaster  on't,  nor 
nothin'  ? "  She  moved  her  head  feebly.  "  I  want  to 
know  !  Why  didn't  ye  ?  Poor  child  !  you  must  'a'  suffered 
from  it.  How  long  sence  'twas  hurt  ?  " 

"  0  dear  ! "  exclaimed  Phoebe,  in  dolorous  accents,  ap 
proaching  behind  her  mother.  u  What  is  it  ?  Don't  it 
'most  kill  you  ?  "  The  basin  began  to  tip  in  her  hands. 
"  It  makes  me  dizzy  to  look  at  it !  " 

"  What  are  ye  doin'  ? "  cried  her  mother,  looking  sud 
denly  around,  in  her  kneeling  posture.  "  I  never  !  if  you 
ain't  spillin'  that  water  all  down  my  back  !  " 

"  I  couldn't  help  it.     I  come  perty  near  faintin' !  " 

<k  Se'  down  the  basin,  and  go  out  and  shet  the  door.  Do 
ye  hear  ?  " 

Phoebe  placed  the  basin  upon  a  chair,  and  reluctantly 
withdrew. 

Having  dressed  the  wound  according  to  her  own  ideas 
of  such  things,  Mrs.  Jackwood  returned  to  the  kitchen. 


44  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  How  is  she  ?  "  asked  Phoebe. 

"  She's  jest  lopped  down  on  my  bed  for  a  little  while. 
Finish  yer  suppers,  childern ;  I'll  'tend  to  her.  Fm  goin' 
to  have  her  drink  a  strong  cup  o'  tea,  as  soon  as  she  gits 
over  her  faint  spell.  Poor  girl !  she's  ever  so  much  to  be 
pitied ! " 

"  She's  a  downright  perty-spoken  girl ! "  said  Mr.  Jack- 
wood.  "  I  don't  know  where  Pve  seen  sich  han'some  man 
ners,  anywheres.  You  better  tell  her,  mother,  't  seein' 
to-morrer's  Sunday,  she  might  as  well  make  up  her  mind 
to  stop  over  with  us  till  Monday,  if  not  longer." 

The  door  was  closed  but  not  latched.  Charlotte  Woods, 
as  she  lay  upon  the  bed,  in  the  darkened  room,  could  hear 
what  was  said  in  the  kitchen.  All  this  time  the  elements 
raged  without,  —  the  rain  lashed  the  panes,  the  wind 
whistled,  the  lightning  winked  its  fiery  eye  ever  and  anon, 
glaring  into  the  chamber,  —  and  the  contrast  of  the  storm 
with  the  peace  and  comfort  she  had  found  with  her  new 
friends  served  to  intensify  all  the  pure  and  sweet  emotions 
that  arose  in  her  grateful  heart.  When  Mrs.  Jackwood  re 
turned  to  her  she  found  her  weeping;  but  her  eyes  glis 
tened  with  a  tender  light. 

Mr.  Jackwood  and  the  children  had,  in  the  meantime, 
returned  to  the  table ;  and  Phoebe  amused  herself  by  laugh 
ing  at  Abimelech's  pail  of  water.  At  first  the  boy  re 
torted  ;  then  he  became  unaccountably  silent,  pouting  over 
his  pie ;  and  finally,  yielding  to  an  irresistible  fit  of  drow 
siness,  he  began  to  nod  assent  to  all  that  was  said.  The 
unfinished  pie-crust  had  fallen  from  his  hand,  and  his  lips 
were  still  distended  with  the  last  mouthful,  when  his  deep 
breathing,  growing  deeper  still,  verged  upon  a  snore. 

"  What  ye  doin',  Phoebe  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Jackwood. 

"Only  tickling  his  nose  a  little,"  laughed  Phoebe  mis 
chievously. 

At  that  moment  Abimelech  sneezed,  blowing  a  full  charge 
of  pie-crumbs  into  his  bosom.  Partially  awakened,  he  half- 


A    VERMONT  FARMHOUSE  45 

opened  his  eyes  ;  but,  closing  them  again,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
he  rolled  over  comfortably  into  his  father's  lap. 

"  Why  couldn't  ye  let  the  boy  alone  ?  "  said  Mr.  Jack- 
wood.  "  You're  always  up  to  some  nonsense  !  " 

"  It  does  me  good  to  plague  him.  That  sneeze  come 
perty  nigh  taking  his  head  off !  I  don't  suppose  he'd  have 
woke  up  if  it  had." 

"  I  guess  he'd  better  be  put  to  bed." 

"  I  beg  of  ye,  father,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jackwood,  "  don't 
carry  that  gre't  sleepy-head  up-stairs  in  your  arms  !  He 
should  be  made  to  walk." 

"  What's  the  use  of  wakin'  him  when  he's  fast  asleep  ?  " 
said  the  farmer. 

"  I'll  carry  the  lamp,"  said  Mrs.  Jackwood,  "if  you 
will  be  so  foolish  !  I've  got  to  go  up  and  fix  a  bed  for  that 
girl." 

Half  an  hour  later,  having  drank  the  tea  prepared  for 
her,  and  eaten  a  few  morsels  of  food,  Charlotte  Woods 
took  leave  of  the  parents,  who  bade  her  a  kind  and  cheer 
ful  good-night,  and  retired  with  Phoebe  to  her  chamber. 

The  young  girl  was  in  a  sociable  mood,  and  wished  to 
talk ;  but  the  wanderer  was  too  weary  to  take  part  in  the 
conversation.  Her  head  had  scarcely  touched  the  pillow 
before  she  was  asleep.  But  she  started  strangely,  and 
moaned,  and  sometimes  cried  aloud,  in  the  trouble  of  her 
dreams.  Phoebe  was  frightened,  and  awoke  her. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  " 

The  storm  was  raging  again ;  the  wind  blew,  the  rain 
pattered  on  the  roof,  the  thunder  rolled  in  the  sky. 

"  You  are  with  me,  —  don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ! "  said  the  wanderer  fervently. 

"  I  was  scart,  and  woke  you  up,"  said  Phoebe.  "  You 
was  talking  in  your  sleep." 

"  Was  I  ?     Did  you  hear  ?     What  did  I  say  ?  " 

At  that  moment  a  vivid  flash,  illumining  the  chamber, 
showed  her  starting  up  with  pallid  looks,  one  arm  sunk  in 


46  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

the  pillow,  and  the  other  flung  across  the  covering  of  the 
bed. 

"  I  couldn't  make  out  much,"  replied  Phoebe.  "  I  heard 
you  say,  '  Don't !  it  will  kill  me  ! '  and  that's  all  I  can  re 
member." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?     Tell  me  all  I  said  ! " 

Phoebe  could  recall  nothing  more ;  and  the  stranger 
guest,  recovering  from  her  alarm,  sank  again  upon  the 
pillow,  and  listened  to  the  rain  on  the  roof  until  she  was 
once  more  asleep. 


SUNDAY  MORNING  47 


IV 

SUNDAY    MORNING 

IT  was  day  when  the  wanderer  awoke.  Through  the 
window-curtain,  which  looked  like  a  white  cotton  apron 
tied  by  its  strings  across  the  sash,  the  light  of  a  new  morn 
ing  streamed  into  the  room. 

How  calm  and  cool  it  seemed !  At  first  she  felt  that  she 
could  always  lie  there,  in  such  sweet  peace  and  languor, 
and  gaze  upon  that  light.  But  the  past  rushed  with  great 
waves  upon  her  heart ;  and,  becoming  restless  with  anxious 
thoughts,  she  arose,  and  put  on  the  faded  calico  gown  Mrs. 
Jackwood  had  given  her  the  night  before.  It  was  an  awk 
ward  fit,  but  it  could  not  altogether  conceal  the  symmetry 
of  her  form.  Then,  standing  before-  a  little  looking-glass, 
she  combed  out  her  thick,  black  hair,  and,  curling  it  on  her 
fingers,  looped  it  up  in  luxuriant  masses  over  her  temples. 
This  done,  she  bathed  her  face  in  a  tin  basin,  with  water 
from  a  broken-nosed  pitcher,  and,  slipping  the  cotton  cur 
tain  aside  upon  its  string,  sat  down  by  the  window. 

The  storm  was  over,  the  clouds  had  cleared  away,  it 
was  a  beautiful  Sunday  morning.  The  low  valley,  through 
which  wound  the  stream,  lay  white-robed  in  silvery  mists ; 
but  all  the  western  range  of  mountains  was  flooded  with 
the  sunrise. 

When  Phoebe  awoke  and  saw  her  companion  sitting 
there  with  troubled  looks,  she  felt  that  she  ought  to  con 
sole  her. 

"I  don't  believe  you  like  it  here  very  well;  I  guess 
you're  homesick." 


48  NEIGIIBOE  JACK  WOOD 

"  Oh,  I  do  like  it !     It  is  so  quiet,  so  peaceful,  here  ! " 

"  I  think  it  is  a  real  mean  old  house,"  responded  Phoebe. 
"  If  father'd  build  a  new  one,  and  fit  it  up  in  style,  I  don't 
know,  —  but,  as  it  is,  I'm  unhappy  as  I  can  be  ! " 

"Oh,"  said  her  companion,  "if  you  could  only  know 
what  it  is  to  be  without  a  home  "  — 

"  Father  tells  me  I  don't  know  how  to  appreciate  a  home. 
But  I  can't  help  it ;  I  can't  be  contented  here." 

"  I  suppose,  then,"  said  Charlotte,  with  a  smile,  "  you 
will  soon  think  of  changing  both  your  name  and  abode." 

"  I  won't  marry  a  farmer,  anyway  ! "  cried  Phoebe.  "  I've 
always  said  that,  and  I'll  stick  to  it,  if  I  live  an  old 
maid  ! " 

Her  pretty  face  and  bright  eyes  sparkled  with  anima 
tion  ;  and,  arising,  the  first  thing  she  did  was  to  look  in 
the  glass,  and  read  once  more  the  charming  tale  of  her  own 
beauty. 

"  Father  says  he  bets  I'll  go  through  the  woods  and  take 
up  with  a  crooked  stick,"  she  continued,  with  amusing 
frankness.  "  I  don't  care,  —  I  could  have  my  pick  of  'most 
any  of  the  young  fellows  about  here.  But  they  ain't 
much ;  they  are  'most  all  farmers'  boys  ;  and  I'll  have  a 
merchant  or  a  lawyer,  if  anybody." 

"Phoebe,"  called  Mrs.  Jackwood  at  the  foot  of  the 
chamber  stairs,  "ain't  you  'most  ready  to  come  down? 
You  needn't  stay  up  there  all  day  if  it  is  Sunday.  Let 
her  lie  and  sleep  if  she  wants  to  ;  it'll  do  her  good  to 
rest." 

So  kind  an  allusion  to  herself  brought  the  tenderest 
tearful  light  to  the  wanderer's  eyes. 

"You  needn't  come  down  till  noon,  if  you  don't  want 
to,"  said  the  lively  Phoebe.  "You  won't  care  to  go  to 
meeting,  I  suppose." 

"  Hardly,"  said  Charlotte,  with  a  sad  smile.  "  Shall 
you  go  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  wouldn't  stay  away  such  a  day  as  this,  I 


SUNDAY  MORNING  4v 

tell  you  !  I  like  to  see  folks  when  I'm  dressed  up ;  it  is 
silly,  perhaps,  but  I  can't  help  it.  I  don't  care  for  the 
preaching  ;  we've  got  a  real  stupid  minister  —  I  don't  ought 
to  say  so,  though,  I  suppose.  Are  you  pious  ?  Do  you 
care  for  what  I  say  ?  " 

Phoebe  did  not  wait  for  replies  to  her  rattling  questions. 

"  Perhaps  you  belong  to  the  church,"  she  went  on, 
blushing  rosy  red ;  "  I  wouldn't  like  to  hurt  your  feelings, 
though  I  must  say  I'm  glad  /  don't  belong  !  Mother  has 
urged  me  and  urged  me  to  join  ;  she's  had  the  minister 
here  to  talk  to  me  hours  at  a  stretch.  But  the  truth  of  it 
is,  I  like  to  carry  on  too  well ;  and  I  ain't  going  to  settle 
down  and  put  on  a  long  face  and  be  pious  yet  a  while  !  I 
thought  I  experienced  religion  one  time ;  but  I  guess  it 
didn't  amount  to  much  ;  there's  more  fun  in  me  than  ever. 
Well,  I  wish  I  was  good,"  more  seriously.  "  I  know  I 
ought  to  be  pious  —  but  it  ain't  in  me." 

Charlotte's  limbs  felt  weak  and  sore ;  but  she  made  a 
resolute  effort  to  move,  and  descended  the  stairs  with  Phoebe. 
They  reached  the  kitchen  just  as  Mr.  Jackwood  was  going 
out  with  the  milk-pails  on  his  arm.  He  paused  to  bid  her 
good-morning ;  and  she  thanked  him  for  his  kindness  with 
so  much  tender  feeling  that  his  eyes  began  to  glisten. 

"  Wai,"  said  he,  winking,  *'•'  make  yourself  to  home ; 
that'll  suit  me  best  of  anything.  —  Come,  Bim'lech,"  turn 
ing  to  his  son,  "  <T  ye  expect  I'm  goin'  to  do  all  the  milkiii' 
in  futur',  'cause  I  let  ye  off  last  night  ?  " 

"  I'm  as  stiff  as  I  can  be,"  muttered  the  boy,  limping 
from  the  corner.  "  I  can't  straighten  out." 

"This  conies  o'  goin'  a-fishin'.  Come,  I'll  limber  ye 
up!" 

Charlotte  was  anxious  to  render  Mrs.  Jackwood  some 
assistance  in  the  work.  At  the  same  time  she  confessed 
her  ignorance  of  kitchen  affairs. 

"  Wai,  I  guess  you'd  be  about  as  much  bother  as  you're 
wuth,"  said  Mrs.  Jackwood. 


50  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  I  might  soon  learn  to  do  something,  if  you  would  show 
me." 

"  La,  sus,  I  can  let  ye  try,  if  that's  all !  But  you'd  learn 
more  to  look  on,  I  should  think.  There's  so  many  little 
chores,  Sunday  morning,  I  can't  tell  myself  what's  to  be 
done  till  I  come  to  V 

Charlotte  proved  unusually  intelligent  and  apt. 

"There's  some  sense  in  tryin'  to  learn  you  somethin'," 
said  Mrs.  Jackwood  encouragingly.  "  I'm  so  partic'lar,  't 
gener'ly  I  can't  bear  to  have  anyone  lift  a  finger  in  my 
kitchen,  without  it's  Phoebe  ;  and  she  sometimes  tries  my 
patience  a'most  to  death  !  As  for  them  gre't  awk'rd  Irish 
girls,  —  the  slouchin'  critturs  !  —  I  won't  so  much  as  have 
?em  'round  ! " 

Thus  encouraged,  Charlotte  emptied  the  sour  milk  Mrs. 
Jackwood  was  skimming ;  helped  scald  the  pans  ;  turned 
the  pork  that  was  frying  in  the  spider  ;  and  assisted  Phoebe 
to  set  the  table. 

"Wai,  you're  about  the  handiest  girl  't  ever  I  see.  I 
can't  say  less'n  that,  any  way.  I  wonder  you  never  did 
housework  before.  You  take  to't  nat'ral  as  ducks  to  the 
water  !  Some  folks  never  can  see  into't,  somehow ;  they 
can't  so  much  as  wipe  the  dishes,  say  nothin'  'bout  washin' 
'em,  without  you  stand  over  'em  every  minute  o'  the  time, 
an'  tell  'em  how.  You've  no  idee  how  narvous  it  makes 
me  feel ! " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  should  draw  pretty  severely  on  your  pa 
tience  sometimes,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  'Twouldn't  be  to  be  wondered  at,  if  you  did.  The 
best  miss  it  now  an'  then,  you  know.  And  I  haven't  all 
the  patience  I  should  have,  or  might  have,  I'm  sorry  to 
say.  You  could  put  up  with  a  little  frettin',  though,  I 
guess  ;  it's  my  natur'  to  fret." 

"  Take  my  word  for  that ! "  laughed  Phoebe. 

"  You  needn't  say  that,  now  !  "  cried  her  mother.  "  I 
don't  think  I'm  any  gre't  of  a  fretter,  I'm  sure.  I  consider 


SUNDAY  MORNING  51 

I'm  perty  toler'ble  patient,  now  !  You  won't  find  many 
women  that'll  put  up  with  what  I  have  to  put  up  with,  de 
pend  upon  't.  Don't  say  agin  I'm  a  gre't  fretter,  if  you 
know  what's  good  for  yourself." 

Presently,  Mr.  Jackwood  and  Abimelech  coming  in,  the 
family  sat  down  to  breakfast. 

"  You  don't  live  by  eatin',  I  see,"  the  farmer  said  to  his 
guest.  "  You'll  never  do  for  a  farmer's  darter  till  you  can 
eat  pork  and  johnny-cake." 

After  breakfast  Mr.  Jackwood  took  down  the  big  family 
Bible  from  the  mantel-piece,  and  having  adjusted  a  pair  of 
blackened  steel-bowed  spectacles,  opened  it  on  his  knee. 
At  the  same  time  Phoebe  and  Abimelech  got  their  Testa 
ments,  and,  after  a  little  dispute  about  "  the  place,"  obeyed 
their  father,  who  enjoined  silence.  Mrs.  Jackwood  took 
her  seat  by  the  open  door,  where  she  could  keep  an  eye  on 
the  poultry  before  the  stoop,  and  flirt  her  apron  at  them 
occasionally,  as  they  attempted  to  invade  the  kitchen. 

Scarcely  had  the  farmer  begun  to  read,  when  a  gallant 
young  turkey,  taking  advantage  of  Mrs.  Jackwood's  con 
templative  mood,  charged  past  her  apron,  and  made  a 
bold  dash  at  the  crumbs  under  the  table. 

"  Bim'lech !  do  help  me  git  this  critter  out !  We  must 
have  a  whip,  and  keep  it  for  these  nasty  turkeys ! " 

Bim,  with  warlike  resolution :  "  Clear  the  track  ! " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Don't  be  ha'sh,  my  son  !  Don't  throw 
yer  book ! " 

She  spoke  too  late.  The  boy's  Testament  whizzed  by  the 
corner  of  the  table,  and,  glancing  on  the  back  of  Phoebe's 
chair,  fluttered  down  into  a  dish  of  grease  011  the  stove- 
hearth. 

"  jSTow  you've  done  it !  "  cried  Phoebe. 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  quivering :  "  I've  as  good  a  mind  to  box 
your  ears  as  ever  I  had  t'  eat  ! " 

"  'Tain't  hurt  much,"  said  Abimelech,  grinning,  as  he  held 
the  Testament  up  by  the  leaves  to  let  the  grease  drip  off. 


52  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Every  Sunday  mornin',"  began  Mrs.  Jackwood,  "  reg'lar 
as  the  day  comes  'round,  that  'ere  grease-dish  has  to  come 
out  o'  the  suller-way,  an'  set  smutcherin'  on  the  stove  till 
the  shoes  are  all  blacked  for  meetin' !  For  my  part,  I'm 
heartily  sick  on't ;  an'  if  I  could  had  my  way,  this  never'd 
a'  happened." 

"  Come,  come !  don't  be  unreason'ble,  mother,"  said  Mr. 
Jackwood.  "  Accidents  will  happen." 

"  Unreasonable  ?  If  you'd  make  a  bizness  on't,  you 
could  set  down  and  warm  the  dish,  an'  grease  yer  shoes, 
an  done  with  't,  all  in  five  minutes'  time.  An'  here  that 
thing's  ben  'round  a  hull  hour,  if  't  has  a  minute  !  Then 
Bim'lech  had  to  fling  his  book !  An'  now  he's  lettin'  the 
grease  drop  all  over  the  floor !  I  never  see  the  beat ! 
There ! " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  gave  vent  to  her  feelings  in  a  sharp  cuff 
bestowed  on  Abimelech's  ear. 

Bim,  howling  :  "  Ow  —  w  —  w  —  w  !     Quit ! " 

"  Quit,  quit ! "  echoed  the  turkey,  darting  behind  the 
stove. 

"  Don't  tell  me  to  quit ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jackwood, 
addressing  Bim  more  particularly,  "  you  sass-box ! " 

In  terror  of  another  blow,  Bim  dropped  the  book  and 
dodged  behind  Charlotte's  chair. 

"  Come,  let's  have  peace  this  holy  Sabbath  mornin'  !  " 
said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "Bim'lech,  take  yer  seat,  and  look 
over  with  Phoebe  ! " 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  endeavoring  to  control  her  feelings,  but 
still  quivering  with  excitement,  stooped  to  pick  up  the 
book. 

"  Grease  an'  all  on  this  clean  floor,  mopped  only  yist'day. 
It's  no  more  use  moppin'  an'  scourin'  in  this  house  than  — 
Gi'  me  a  knife,  Phoebe  ! " 

"I  —  gracious  ! "  cried  Bim,  with  a  wild  look,  throwing 
up  his  hands  in  a  protective  attitude  about  his  ears. 

"We're  waitin',  mother,"  observed  Mr.  Jackwood  quietly. 


SUNDAY  MORNING  53 

"  You'll  have  to  wait  till  I  scrape  up  a  little  of  this 
grease,  'fore  it's  trod  all  over  the  house.  Where's  that 
turkey  ?  " 

"  He's  out  o'  the  house,"  snarled  Bim,  "  an'  I  wish  I 
was  ! " 

"Don't  talk  so,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  " Remember,  there's 
a  stranger  present.  Now,  if  you're  all  ready,  we'll  read." 

Mrs.  Jackwood  resumed  her  station  in  the  doorway ; 
and,  setting  the  broom  as  a  trap  to  be  sprung  upon  the 
poultry,  composed  herself  to  listen. 

"  Commence,  Bim'lech,"  said  the  farmer. 

Bim'lech,  sullenly  :  "  Hain't  got  no  book  ! " 

"  I  told  ye  to  look  over  with  Phoebe.     Third  varse." 

Bim  mumbled  over  his  task,  as  if  merit  consisted  in  the 
most  rapid  and  indistinct  utterance  that  could  be  called 
reading. 

"  Bim'lech,  read  that  'ere  last  varse  over  agin,  an'  try  to 
take  the  sense  on't." 

"  Phoebe  won't  le'  me  look  on  !  She  holds  the  book  'way 
off ! " 

"  Anybody'd  think  you  wanted  to  eat  the  book  up  ! " 
and  Phoebe  mischievously  thrust  her  Testament  under  the 
boy's  nose.  "  Now  can  you  see  ?  " 

"  Come  !  —  stop  !    I  swanny,  I  won't  read  another  word  !" 

"  Take  holt  o'  that  book,  my  son,  an'  don't  le's  have  any 
more  o'  yer  nonsense.  This  is  perty  work  for  Sunday 
mornin' ! " 

Phoebe  giggling ;  Abimelech  pouting ;  Mr.  Jackwood  look 
ing  sternly  over  his  glasses  at  the  offenders ;  Charlotte  try 
ing  to  be  serious,  but  laughing  with  her  sunny  eyes  in 
spite  of  herself. 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Shoo!  shoo !  "  flirting  her  apron  at 
the  turkeys.  "  Git  away  wTith  ye  ! '' 

At  length,  peace  restored,  the  reading  was  concluded,  an 
entire  chapter  having  been  dispensed  for  the  edification 
of  the  household  circle.  Half  a  chapter  was  the  usual 


54  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

allowance  ;  but  a  double  portion  was  adjudged  appropriate 
for  Sunday,  which  seemed  to  afford  more  time  for  such  ex 
ercises  than  week-days  are  supposed  to  do. 

Having  made  a  few  remarks  on  the  text,  Mr.  Jackwood, 
kneeling  over  the  Bible  in  his  chair,  prayed  with  a  certain 
earnestness  which  bore  up  Charlotte's  soul  on  wings  of  de 
votion.  But  the  children's  hearts  were  untouched  ;  it  was 
a  threadbare  prayer  to  them  :  although  kneeling  reverently, 
they  occupied  themselves  in  whispering,  pinching,  and 
making  faces  at  each  other,  all  in  a  quiet  way,  until  it  was 
concluded.  Mrs.  Jackwood  was  sufficiently  serious  for  the 
occasion ;  yet  she  could  not  keep  her  eyes  off  the  turkeys, 
nor  refrain  from  shaking  her  skirts  at  them  when  they  ap 
proached  the  door. 

The  morning  devotions  ended,  Mr.  Jackwood  got  out  his 
shaving  apparatus,  raised  a  lather  which  made  his  face 
look  like  a  mighty  ice-cream,  honed  his  razor,  and,  perch 
ing  the  kitchen  looking-glass  on  the  window-frame,  stood 
before  it,  with  his  feet  well  braced  for  the  operation,  and 
proceeded  to  take  off  his  "  baird."  Mrs.  Jackwood  washed 
the  dishes,  and  Charlotte  wiped  them,  while  Phoebe  and 
Abimelech  quarrelled  over  their  Sunday-school  lesson, 
which  they  were  pretending  to  study  together. 

Employment  diverted  Charlotte's  mind;  but  when  there 
was  nothing  more  for  her  to  do  she  became  despondent. 
In  vain  she  endeavored  to  repay  the  kindness  of  her  friends 
with  cheerful  looks  and  words. 

Mr.  Jackwood  felt  that  he  ought  to  say  something  to 
comfort  her.  "  You  ain't  growin'  impatient,  an'  thinkin'  o' 
leavin'  on  us,  be  ye  ? "  he  cried,  coming  out  of  the  bed 
room  with  his  Sunday  shirt  on.  "  Of  course  you  wouldn't 
wish  to  be  travellin'  on  the  Sabbath  ?  Here,  mother," 
turning  to  look  for  his  wife,  "  you'll  have  to  button  my 
rizbuns,  arter  all.  Where  be  ye  ?  " 

"  Let  me  button  them,  if  you  please,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  Them  don't  look  like  farmers'  wives'  hands,"  observed 


SUNDAY  MORNING  55 

Mr.  Jack-wood,  submitting  the  wristbands ;  "  they're  nimble 
enough,  though.  I  guess  they  might  be  made  useful,  don't 
you  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  make  them  so,  indeed  !  " 

"  Would  ye,  though  ?  There's  chances  enough  for  that, 
I  should  think.  You'd  want  some  lady-like  occupation, 
though,  I  s'pose." 

"  I  would  not  care  much  what  it  was,"  said  the  girl,  "  if 
I  could  see,  now  and  then,  a  kind  face  ! " 

"  Wai,  wal ! "  cheeringly,  "  suthin'  '11  turn  up  if  you 
put  your  trust  in  Providence,  —  that's  sartin.  At  all 
events,  we'll  agree  to  keep  ye  till  there  does." 

"  ]STow,  father ! "  remonstrated  Mrs.  Jackwood,  enter 
ing  at  that  moment,  "  don't  make  no  rash  promises,  I  be 
seech  ! " 

"  Oh,"  said  their  guest  quickly,  "  I  could  not  accept 
your  kindness  if  I  would  !  I  ought,"  a  heavy  shade  of 
trouble  darkened  her  face,  "I  know  I  ought  to  go  —  per 
haps  to-day  ! " 

"  Tut,  tut !  that's  nonsense  ! "  returned  the  hospitable 
farmer.  "  We  can  keep  ye  for  a  few  days  jes  's  well's  not." 

"  Why  do  you,  father  ? "  said  Mrs.  Jackwood  aside. 
"  I've  nothin'  agin  the  girl ;  an'  I  mus'  confess  she's  about 
the  handiest  person,  for  one  't  hain't  ben  thoroughly 
drilled  in  housework,  't  ever  I  see.  But  we  don't  know 
nothin'  who  she  is,  nor  where  she  come  from,  nor  nothin' 
't  all  about  her  ;  so  it  stan's  us  in  hand  to  be  careful." 

Mr.  Jackwood  was  struck  with  the  force  of  the  observa 
tion.  But  turning  to  Charlotte,  and  looking  into  those 
deep,  earnest  eyes,  his  wife's  argument  melted  before  them 
like  frost  in  the  sun. 

"  Wal,  we'll  talk  it  over  to-morrow.  But,  take  my  word 
for't,"  with  a  cheering  glance  at  his  guest,  "  't'll  all  turn 
out  right  in  the  end." 

In  a  little  while  Mr.  Jackwood  and  the  children  went  off 
to  meeting  in  the  one-horse  wagon,  driving  the  old  white 


56  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

mare  —  an  establishment  of  which  Phoebe,  to  use  her  own 
expression,  was  "  ashamed  as  she  could  be."  Charlotte 
watched  until  they  were  out  of  sight,  and  still  sat  gazing 
anxiously  from  the  window,  while  Mrs.  Jackwood  finished 
the  Sunday-morning  chores. 

"  I'm  tired,"  at  length  said  the  farmer's  wife,  "  an'  I'm 
goin'  to  lop  down  a  few  minutes  on  the  bed.  You  can 
come  in  an'  set  by  me,  if  ye  like." 

The  truth  is,  Mrs.  Jackwood  wished  to  keep  an  eye  on 
Charlotte.  "  Appearances  are  desaitful,"  she  reasoned, 
"  an'  there's  no  knowin'  what  may  happen  ! "  With  this 
view  she  took  a  newspaper  to  keep  herself  awake  when 
conversation  failed. 

"  I  declare  !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  she  read,  with  her  head 
propped  by  pillows,  "  what  a  strange  thing  that  was  hap 
pened  the  other  day  !  Have  you  heard  about  it  ?  " 

She  read  a  few  paragraphs,  while  the  other  listened 
breathlessly. 

"  There's  more  about  it  in  fine  print ;  but  that  'pears  to 
be  t*he  substance.  Hadn't  you  heard  nothin'  of  it  ?  " 

"I  —  I  believe  I  heard  some  men  talking  about  it  yes 
terday,"  faltered  Charlotte ;  "  but  I  didn't  know  where  it 
happened.  How  far  is  the  place  from  here  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  it's  out  in  York  State  somewheres." 

Charlotte  breathed  again,  passing  her  hand  across  her 
pallid  face.  At  the  same  time  Mrs.  Jackwood,  although 
fully  determined  not  to  fall  asleep,  closed  her  eyes,  letting 
the  newspaper  sink  gradually  upon  the  bed. 

Then  Charlotte,  with  stealthy  hand,  took  up  the  paper, 
and  glanced  hurriedly  down  the  columns.  Finding  the 
place  where  Mrs.  Jackwood  had  been  reading,  she  went 
over  with  burning  interest  the  portions  that  had  been 
omitted ;  then  laying  down  the  paper,  still  without  awak 
ening  the  good  woman,  she  glided  from  the  room. 


Y  EVENING  IN  MOBILE  57 


AX    EVEXIXG    IN    MOBILE 

THE  evening  was  soft  and  warm.  The  sky  spread  calm 
and  starry  above  the  sultry  city.  The  houses  were  thrown 
open  to  catch  the  breath  of  a  light  south  wind  that  blew 
gently  up  the  bay.  Many  of  the  inhabitants  were  in  the 
streets,  sitting  before  their  doors,  or  strolling  up  and  down ; 
while  upon  the  river  the  negro  bargemen  sang  their  wild 
and  plaintive  melodies  in  the  moonlight  that  shone  over 
the  water.  At  ten  o'clock  two  young  men  landed  from  a 
pleasure-boat,  and  walked  arm-in-arm  into  the  town. 

"  Here  we  are  again,"  said  one,  pointing  with  his  cane. 
"  It  was  on  this  corner  we  met.  Well,,  we  have  had  a  pleas 
ant  sail,  and  I  have  you  to  thank  for  it." 

"  I  stifle,"  returned  the  other,  "  in  these  close  streets. 
When  I  look  up  at  the  stars,  I  would  fly  !  How  cool,  how 
far-off,  how  pure  they  are  !  " 

"  You  are  homesick,  Hector." 

"  No,  Joseph ;  but  a  little  heartsick  !  Life  seems  so 
rotten  here ;  my  hands  feel  slimy  with  it,  and  I  reach  up 
instinctively,  as  if  to  wash  them  in  the  light  of  the  stars. 
What  is  the  great  end  of  existence,  Joseph  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  word,"  cried  Joseph,  "  that's  a  conundrum  I 
can't  guess  ! " 

"  You  have  lived  too  long  in  this  enervating  atmos 
phere,"  rejoined  Hector.  "  There  is  danger  here  of  forget 
ting  what  the  word  existence  means.  Do  you  never  start, 
and  cry  out,  f  Is  this  humanity  ?  Am  I  a  part  of  it  ?  Who 
are  we  ?  What  are  we  ?  Why  do  we  exist  ?  ' 


58  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  If  I  should  dwell  upon  such  things,"  answered  Joseph, 
"  they  would  make  me  as  morbid  as  you  are  !  " 

"  The  thought  haunts  me  continually.  It  tyrannizes 
over  me  like  conscience.  Night  and  day,  wherever  I  go, 
whatever  I  see  or  do,  the  inexorable  voice  whispers,  'To 
what  end  is  it  all  ? ' " 

"  What's  the  use  ?  You  take  life  too  seriously,"  said 
Joseph.  "How  long  do  you  propose  to  remain  in  this 
enervating  atmosphere  ?  " 

"  I  take  leave  of  it  in  a  few  days ;  I  go  home  to  Ver 
mont,  to  spend  a  solitary  summer  among  the  mountains. 
There  is  nothing  for  me  there  but  thought  and  study. 
And  as  for  Mobile,  I  have  had  strange  experiences  here  ; 
but  they  are  all  in  the  past,  thank  Heaven !  and  nothing 
will  ever  allure  me  here  again." 

"  You  are  right ! "  said  Joseph  thoughtfully.  "  I  wish  I 
was  going  with  you.  Rob  Greenwich  is  up  that  way 
somewhere,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"Where  Kob  Greenwich  is  it's  not  easy  to  say.  He 
goes  where  passion  leads  him ;  not  like  you  and  me,  dear 
Joseph  !  "  said  Hector  ironically.  "  But,  if  you  ask  where 
his  home  is,  I  can  tell  you.  It's  in  the  village  of  Hunters- 
ford,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  my  father's  house.  I 
will  show  it  you  when  you  come  to  visit  me  this  summer." 

"  I  ?  That's  out  of  the  question,  unless  I  marry  a  rich 
wife,  and  go  North  for  a  wedding  tour." 

"Well,  do  that,  and  you  shall  have  a  double  welcome." 

"  If  I  had  your  opportunities,"  said  Joseph,  "  perhaps  I 
might.  I  can't  understand  your  not  marrying  Helen.  She 
is  rich,  beautiful,  and  charming ;  more  than  all "  — 

"  A  woman,"  cried  Hector,  "  who  holds  human  property ; 
who  must  have  her  slaves  to  wait  upon  her ;  who  would  not 
give  them  up  even  for  me !  But  we  will  not  discuss  that 
question.  Take  her,  if  you  can  get  her,  black  servants  and 
all.  And  now  good-night.  You  have  an  engagement,  and 
are  anxious  to  get  rid  of  me." 


AN  EVENING   IN  MOBILE  59 

"  True,"  said  Joseph,  "  I  have  a  call  to  make  ;  but "  — 

"  Xo  compliments.     We  part  here." 

Leaving  his  friend  to  proceed  alone,  Hector  turned  a 
corner,  and  walked  leisurely  along  a  street  brilliant  with 
lighted  saloons.  The  doors  of  these  places  were  thrown 
open,  pouring  floods  of  yellow  light  upon  the  street,  and 
exposing  all  the  allurements  of  dissipation  within,  from  the 
well-furnished  bar  to  the  gay  and  voluptuous  pictures  that 
adorned  the  walls. 

Into  one  of  these,  led  by  the  same  habit  of  observing 
human  nature  which  had  prompted  his"  visit  to  the  South, 
Hector  Dunbury  strolled  abstractedly.  Music  and  dancing, 
together  with  the  fine  arts,  or  rather  the  coarse  arts,  added 
their  charms  to  the  attraction  of  the  bar.  The  music  was 
by  an  itinerant  performer,  who  exercised  a  feeble  violin, 
with  an  accompaniment  of  bells,  which  he  jingled  with  one 
foot ;  a  triangle,  which  he  sounded  from  time  to  time  with 
the  other;  and  a  pair  of  cymbals  played  between  his  knees. 
The  dancing  was  by  two  artists,  a  male  and  a  female.  The 
one,  a  cotton-dealer  of  respectable  standing  in  Southern 
society,  carried  away  by  the  enthusiasm  of  over-strong  po 
tations,  had  volunteered  a  double  pigeon-wing,  in  a  style 
that  would  have  somewhat  astonished  his  mercantile  con 
nections  in  New  York  and  Boston.  The  female  was  no 
other  than  a  learned  duck,  had  in  charge  by  a  ragged  urchin, 
the  fiddler's  companion,  who  excited  her  to  a  noble  emula 
tion  of  the  cotton-dealer's  extraordinary  performance. 

At  the  bar  Hector  called  for  a  glass  of  lemonade. 

"  No  fire  in  it  for  me  ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  the  bar-tender 
was  about  to  dash  some  brandy  into  the  tumbler. 

"  Lemonade  ?  "  echoed  a  dark,  bearded  individual  on  his 
left,  inclining  over  the  bar.  "  The  same  for  me,  with  a 
good  deal  of  the  fire.  In  short,  make  it  a  punch.  And  you, 
Dickson  ?  " 

"Anything  to  brace  me  up,"  said  a  third  customer 
thickly ;  "  I'm  consid'bly  'fected  by  the  music." 


60  NEIGHBOR  JACKWQOD 

"Do  ye  call  that  music?"  cried  his  companion.  "I'll 
make  better  with  a  saw-file  and  a  pair  of  tongs  ! " 

"  Recollect,  doctor/7  said  the  bar-tender,  "  that  six  weeks 
ago  that  man  had  never  seen  a  fiddle." 

"  He  plays  well  for  six  weeks  ! "  observed  Dickson  with 
drunken  gravity. 

"  You  swallow  such  a  story  as  that  in  your  liquor ! "  re 
torted  the  doctor.  "  I'm  ashamed  of  you  !  " 

And  he  playfully  thrust  his  friend's  hat  over  his  fea 
tures,  like  an  extinguisher. 

"  I  said,"  gasped  Dickson,  struggling  out  of  his  hat,  and 
looking  up  with  a  ludicrous  expression  of  bewilderment,  "  I 
said  —  where  is  what  I  said  ?  I  dropped  it  as  a  candid  re 
mark,"  and  he  looked  about  him  as  if  expecting  to  find 
it  on  the  counter,  or  on  the  floor.  "  Who  knocked  my  hat 
over  my  eyes  ?  " 

"'Twas  the  lemonade  gentleman,  I  reckon,"  replied  the 
doctor.  "  He  appears  anxious  to  apologize.  As  for  your 
marvellous  fiddler,"  —  and  he  turned  his  back,  while  Dick- 
son  staggered  upon  Hector. 

"  Oh,  as  for  him,"  said  the  bar-tender,  "  I  can  prove  that 
he  had  never  seen  a  fiddle  six  weeks  ago.  Perhaps  you'd 
like  to  take  a  bet." 

"  Well,  I  reckon  !  "  cried  the  doctor.  « I'll  go  the  drinks 
for  the  company." 

"  All  right !  "  returned  the  other.     "  The  man  is  blind  !  " 

At  that  moment  a  thickly  articulated  cry  for  help  was 
heard ;  the  doctor  recognized  his  own  name,  and  the  voice  of 
a  friend.  It  was  Dickson,  whose  drunken  attack  upon  Hec 
tor  had  proved  something  of  a  failure,  and  who  now,  in 
consequence,  lay  in  a  disagreeable  heap  under  the  table, 
where  he  was  trying  to  open  the  wall,  mistaking  it  for  the 
door. 

Meanwhile,  Hector  had  taken  his  seat  in  the  corner,  with 
his  lemonade  before  him.  Declining  the  doctor's  invitation 
to  the  bar,  he  sat  looking  on,  with  a  listless  expression, 


AN  EVENING  IN  MOBILE  61 

while  the  rest  of  the  company  celebrated  the  bet.  The 
blind  man  was  led  up  by  the  ragged  urchin,  who  grinned 
over  his  gin-and-sugar  with  the  men  at  the  bar,  and 
smacked  his  lips  afterwards,  as  if  he  liked  it. 

The  company  then,  becoming  hilarious,  formed  a  ring  to 
observe  the  duck  dance.  Among  other  amusing  feats  the 
wonderful  biped  performed,  was  that  of  recognizing  the 
medical  faculty,  and  saluting  them  in  the  crowd.  Her 
sagacity  in  that  respect  was  fairly  tested,  the  betting  doc 
tor  being  the  subject.  Stopping  before  him,  in  her  wad 
dling  rounds,  she  uttered  the  characteristic  cry,  — 

"  Quack  !  quack  !  quack  ! " 

A  shout  of  exultation  from  the  spectators.  The  doctor, 
excited,  offered  to  wager  that  the  experiment  would  not 
succeed  a  second  time.  The  bet  taken,  he  changed  his 
position ;  and  once  more  the  duck,  waddling  about  the  floor 
to  the  blind  tiddler's  music,  stopped  suddenly,  and,  bobbing 
her  head  tip  and  down,  politely  saluted  the  doctor. 

"  Quack  !  quack  !  quack  !  " 

The  applause  was  uproarious ;  in  the  midst  of  which  a 
voice  called  out,  "  That's  so  ! " 

"  Who  says  that's  so  ?  "  cried  the  doctor. 

Dickson,  who  had  by  this  time  crept  from  under  the 
table,  indicated  Hector  with  his  tipsy  fist.  The  doctor 
marched  up  to  the  young  man  in  a  blustering  way  and 
demanded  an  apology. 

Hector  quietly  sipped  his  lemonade. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  "  demanded  the  doctor. 

"No,"  replied  Hector;  "unless  I  am  to  take  the  duck's 
word." 

"  You  are  a  liar  !  "  said  the  doctor. 

The  next  instant  the  contents  of  Hector's  glass  were 
streaming  from  his  brows  and  eyes  and  beard  ;  and  Hec 
tor  stood  upon  his  feet,  pale,  but  smiling,  with  the  empty 
tumbler  in  his  hand. 

As  the  doctor  staggered  back  from  the  shock,  his  hand 


62  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

instinctively  found  its  way  to  his  bosom,  where  it  grasped 
the  handle  of  a  pistol.  He  drew  it,  and  levelled  it  at 
Hector.  But  quick  as  thought  it  flew  to  the  ceiling,  struck 
up  by  a  swift  blow  from  his  adversary's  hand. 

At  this  juncture  the  courageous  Dickson  made  a  sally 
in  favor  of  his  ally,  with  a  chair  upon  his  head.  Hector 
leaped  aside,  and  the  blow  intended  for  him.  fell  upon  the 
crown  of  the  dancing  cotton-dealer.  At  the  same  time  the 
doctor  rushed  forward  with  a  brandished  knife. 

"  Take  care  !  "  cried  Hector,  stepping  back. 

There  was  something  in  his  tone  and  look  which  betok 
ened  a  roused  and  dangerous  spirit.  The  doctor  advanced, 
showing  his  firm-set,  glittering  teeth  under  his  curled 
mustache,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  the  young  man's  breast. 
On  the  instant  the  empty  glass  was  shivered  in  his  face ; 
stunned  and  gashed,  he  dropped  upon  one  knee,  letting  fall 
his  weapon,  and  supporting  himself  with  his  hand  upon 
the  floor. 

Hector  was  unhurt ;  and,  the  moment  he  saw  his  adver 
sary  down,  he  sprang  to  raise  him  up,  and  helped  him  to  a 
chair. 

"  Dickson  ! "  cried  out  the  doctor,  in  accents  of  pain  and 
rage,  endeavoring  to  wipe  the  blood  from  his  eyes. 

A  violent  tumult  had  arisen  in  the  saloon.  Dickson  was 
in  the  midst  of  it,  and  unable  to  render  his  friend  any 
assistance. 

"  Somebody  give  me  my  knife  ! "  articulated  the  doctor. 
"  He  shall  pay  for  this." 

"  We  will  talk  of  that,"  said  Hector.  «  But  first  let  me 
look  to  your  wound.  I  sought  no  quarrel ;  but  it  is  my 
way  to  defend  myself." 

The  doctor  was  not  dangerously  hurt.  His  brow  was 
cut,  and  the  blinding  blood  that  streamed  down  into  his 
eyes  rendered  him  incapable  of  offering  any  opposition. 
Hector  removed  the  fragments  of  glass  from  the  wound, 
and  bound  his  own  handkerchief  about  it. 


AN  EVENING  IN  MOBILE  63 

By  this  time,  the  police  having  been  alarmed,  three  offi 
cers  rushed  into  the  saloon.  The  ragged  urchin,  as  the 
cause  of  the  disturbance,  and  the  blind  fiddler,  were  the 
first  offenders  seized.  The  police  next  laid  hands  upon 
the  cotton-dealer,  who,  discomfited,  sat  in  Turkish  fashion 
upon  his  supple  legs,  in  a  corner,  looking  hazily  about  him, 
as  if  vainly  endeavoring  to  comprehend  what  was  going  on. 
After  him,  the  pugnacious  Dickson,  laid  away  once  more 
under  his  favorite  table,  and  fighting  heavily  with  his  ene 
mies,  disguised  as  table-legs,  was  dragged  out  by  the  heels, 
and  placed  under  arrest. 

The  police,  however,  took  good  care  to  avoid  meddling 
with  such  persons  as  swore  terribly  and  flourished  weap 
ons.  Hector,  therefore,  who  used  neither  pistols  nor  pro 
fanity,  bid  fair  to  become  the  next  victim.  He  stood,  with 
calm  dignity,  confronting  the  officers,  when  a  performance 
on  the  part  of  the  doctor  caused  a  diversion. 

The  man  had  been  some  moments  on  his  feet,  looking 
about  him  from  beneath  his  bandaged  brows  for  his  bowie- 
knife,  which  Hector  had  kicked  under  the  chair ;  and  now 
perceiving  it,  he  clutched  it,  and  rushed  upon  his  late  an 
tagonist.  Hector's  back  was  towards  him ;  and  the  armed 
hand  was  already  raised,  when  a  policeman  stepped  behind 
the  assailant,  and  tripped  up  his  heels.  Hector  was  un 
touched  ;  and  while  the  officers  rushed  upon  the  doctor  to 
secure  his  weapons  and  bind  his  hands,  the  young  man, 
taking  unceremonious  leave  of  the  company,  walked  quietly 
and  quickly  out  at  the  door. 

"  0  corruption  !  0  death  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  accents  of 
loathing,  as  he  hurried  from  the  spot.  Perceiving  a  foun 
tain  running  in  the  street,  he  stooped  instinctively  to  wash 
his  hands.  When  he  would  have  wiped  them,  he  remem 
bered  that  he  had  bound  his  handkerchief  upon  his  adver 
sary's  head. 

"  It  is  well  ! "  said  he.  "  I  have  left  my  garment  with 
them  ! " 


64  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


VI 

GRANDMOTHER    RIGGLESTY 

A  RHEUMATIC  old  lady  in  a  brown  bonnet  and  a  faded 
bombazine  dress,  with  a  fussy  shawl  about  her  neck,  arrived 
at  the  Excelsior  House  in  the  afternoon  stage.  Alighting 
with  difficulty,  with  her  arms  full  of  bundles,  she  gathered 
herself  up  on  the  step,  sneezed  twice,  and  scrutinized  the 
crowd  of  loungers  with  an  inquisitive  scowl. 

"  Is  anybody  here  knows  Bim'lech  Jackwood  ?  "  she  in 
quired,  wrapping  the  fussy  shawl  more  closely  about  her 
neck.  "  An7  has  anybody  seen  him  this  arternoon  ?  " 

Everybody  appeared  to  know  Mr.  Abimelech  Jackwood, 
but  nobody  appeared  to  have  seen  him  that  afternoon. 

"  It's  the  strangest  thing !  Here  I  wrote  to  Bim'lech's 
folks  more'n  a  week  ago  —  There,  Mister  —  you  driver ! 
I  knowed  that  ban'box  would  git  jammed,  an'  I  telled  ye 
so.  It's  so  strange  folks  can't  be  a  little  mite  careful! 
Don't  tear  that  trunk  all  to  pieces,  now,  gitt'n  on't  down ! 
I  wish  you'd  hand  me  that  pa'cel  I  dropped,  'fore  it  gits 
trod  on.  That's  the  wust  stage !  I  sha'n't  git  over  it  in 
my  j'ints  —  I  do'no'  when  !" 

"  Supper,  ma'am  ?  " 

"No,  I  guess  not;  I've  got  some  lunch  in  my  bag.  I 
s'pose,"  the  old  lady  smiled  persuasively,  "if  Bim'lech's 
folks  don't  come  perty  soon,  you  can  jest  gi'  me  a  cup  o' 
tea  in  my  hand,  can't  ye,  without  much  charge  ?  I  don't 
care  for  milk  an'  sugar." 

She  sat  down  on  her  baggage,  while,  at  her  request,  the 
landlord  sent  across  the  way,  and  ascertained  that  a  letter, 


GBAXDXOTHEB   BIGGLESTY  65 

postmarked    Sawney  Hook,  and   addressed    to  Abimelech 
Jackwood.  had  lain  in  the  post-office  several  days. 

••And  it's  there  yit  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  lady.  "Did 
ever  anything  in  this  world  happen  jest  like  that  ?  Send  a 
letter  to  say  you're  comin' — pay  the  postage  on't,  too  — 
I'm  provoked  !  You  don't  know  nobody  't's  goin'  right  by 
Bim'lech's.  do  ye.  't  I  can  ride  with's  well's  not  ?  I  don't 
re'ly  feel's  tho'  I  could  afford  to  hire  a  wagon  a-puppus." 

It  chanced  that  one  of  Mr.  Jack  wood's  neighbors  was 
about  starting  for  home,  and  could  carry  her  directly  to 
his  house.  But,  on  being  introduced,  the  neighbor  said 
evasively,  that  he  had  come  to  the  village  on  a  buckboard, 
and  could  not  conveniently  carry  so  much  baggage. 

••  I'll  leave  the  bulk  on't  for  Bim'lech.  then,  an'  take  jest 
these  'ere  bundles  in  my  lap.  I  wonder  who  it  was  in 
vented  buck-boards,  —  spring-boards,  they  call  'ern  to  Saw 
ney  Hook.  I  never  could  like  'em.  Jest  a  long  teeterin' 
board,  from  the  fore  ex  to  the  hind  ex.  with  nothin*  but  a 
seat  in  the  middle.  —  not  a  bit  of  a  box.  nor  no  nothin'  but 
the  fills  an'  wheels  !  " 

Unsocial  neighbor:   ••  You're  not  obliged  to  ride  on  one." 

••  Oh.  I  don't  find  no  fault,  no  way  !  I  look  upon  't  as 
a  lucky  chance  !  "  in  a  conciliatory  tone.  ••  Bim'lech  Jack- 
wood  is  a  son-in-law  of  mine.  His  wife.  Betsy  Kigglesty 
that  was.  is  my  darter.  Don't  ye  think  I  can  take  this 
ban'box  along,  an'  hold  it  'tween  our  feet  ?  I'm  'most 
afraid  to  leave  it.  Oh.  wait  a  minute,  sir !  my  umbrel' !  I 
shall  want  it  to  keep  the  wind  offrn  my  neck,  ridin'.  La::«I- 
lord."  whispering  mysteriously,  "see  here  a  minute!  I? 
that  'ere  a  drinkin'  man  ?  He's  very  red-faced,  an'  I  am 
sartin  I  smelt  his  breath." 

••  He's  an  Englishman."  said  the  landlord.  ••  but  u  perfect 
gentleman,  you'll  find  him." 

••  It  can't  be  Mr.  Dunbury.  can  it  ?  Laws  sakes  !  I 
shouldn't  'a'  knowed  him. — tho'.  to  tell  the  truth.  I  never 
see  him  uiore'u  two  times,  's  I  know  on.  I  wish  vou'd  iest 


66  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

tuck  my  shawl  up  around  my  bunnit  a  little,  so  the  wind 
sha'n't  strike  to  my  back.  Now,  if  you'll  hand  me  this  'ere 
bag,  arter  I  git  into  that  hateful  spring-board  " 

A  minute  later,  with  her  bundles  in  her  lap,  and  her 
faded  blue  cotton  umbrella,  of  huge,  dimensions,  spread 
over  her  left  shoulder,  the  old  lady  might  have  been  seen 
riding  along  the  village  road  with  the  unsocial  neighbor. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Dunbury,  I  believe  ? "  talking  loud,  to 
make  herself  heard  under  the  umbrella. 

The  unsocial  neighbor  heartily  wished  just  then  that  it 
wasn't  Mr.  Dunbury.  Although  a  man  of  fallen  fortunes, 
much  of  the  haughty  Englishman's  pride  —  now  grown 
sensitive  and  sore  —  adhered  to  him  in  his  depressed  con 
dition  ;  and  he  experienced  a  sort  of  inward  fury  at  the 
thought  that  he,  a  Dunbury,  should  be  placed  in  so  ridicu 
lous  a  position.  He  acknowledged  his  identity,  however, 
in  a  forbidding  growl. 

"  Mebby  ye  don't  remember  me  ?  "  shouted  the  old  lady 
under  her  fortification.  "  I  ben  up  here  to  visit  my  rela 
tions  three  times  in  my  life ;  an'  I  recollect  the  Dunburys. 
How's  Mis'  Dunbury  ?  Does  she  have  the  spine  now  ?  or 
was  it  Mis'  Wing  had  a  spine  in  her  back  ?  I  'most  f orgit. 
There!  I  declare  for't!" 

The  old  lady,  struggling  to  arrange  her  umbrella  so  as 
to  defend  herself  at  all  points  from  the  fresh  air,  sadly  to 
the  annoyance  of  the  irritable  Englishman,  whose  face  and 
eyes  were  endangered,  had  brought  affairs  to  a  pleasant 
crisis  by  quietly  knocking  off  his  hat. 

"  Le'  me  git  off'n  git  it,"  she  proposed.  « Sha'n't  I  ? 
If  you'll  jest  hold  my  umbreF  an'  bundles"  — 

"  Sit  still  ! "  muttered  her  companion,  jumping  to  the 
ground. 

There  were  plenty  of  spectators  to  witness  his  discomfi 
ture  ;  and,  to  make  matters  as  bad  as  possible,  the  old  lady 
raised  her  voice  to  a  shrill  pitch  as  he  went  back  to  re 
cover  his  property  :  — 


GRANDMOTHER  RIGGLESTY  67 

"  You  see,  if  't  had  been  anything  but  a  spring-board,  — 
if  there'd  been  any  sort  or  kind  of  a  box  to  the  wagon,  — 
your  hat  would  'a'  fell  into  it,  an'  you  wouldn't  had  to  git 
out." 

The  neighbor  made  no  reply,  but  taking  his  hat  out  of 
the  dirt  with  flushed  dignity,  put  it  upon  his  head,  stalked 
back  to  the  vehicle,  and  drove  on  in  silent  rage.  As  lie  did 
not  speak  again  until,  arrived  at  Mr.  Jackwood's  house, 
he  made  haste  to  set  her  down  at  the  gate,  she  considered 
herself  shamefully  treated. 

"  I'm  much  obleeged  for  your  very  kind  politeness  !  "  she 
remarked  with  grisly  sarcasm.  "  Hadn't  I  better  pay  ye 
suthin'  for  yer  trouble  ?  " 

The  Englishman's  sense  of  the  humorous  getting  the 
better  of  his  mortification,  he  told  her  gravely  that  he 
would  consider  fourpence  a  fair  compensation. 

"  I  declare,"  she  stammered,  looking  blank  and  per 
plexed,  "  I  hardly  expected  ye'd  make  a  charge  on't  —  but 
I'm  sure,"  she  fumbled  in  her  purse,  "  if  three  cents  would 
be  an  object—  Git  out,  you  nasty  thing  !  "to  Rover,  who 
ran  out,  barking,  and  leaped  upon  her  dress.  "  Strange  to 
me  people  will  keep  a  yelpiri'  cur  ! " 

Mr.  Dunbury  drove  away  whilst  she  was  still  fumbling 
for  the  change. 

"  Good  riddance  ! "  she  muttered  ;  "  I  should  have  be 
grudged  him  the  fust  cent ;  for  he's  a  drinkin'  man,  and  I'd 
know  'twould  go  straight  for  liquor.  Is  this  Phoebe  ?  " 

"  You're  my  Grandmother  Bigglesty,  ain't  you  ?  "  cried 
the  delighted  Phoebe,  springing  to  kiss  her  venerable 
relation. 

"  My  sakes  !  how  you  have  growed,  child  ! "  A  smile 
thawed  the  old  lady's  hard  visage  a  little  on  the  surface. 
"  How's  mother  an'  Bim'lech  ?  Git  out,  you,  sir  !  "  to  Rover, 
with  a  kick,  "  tearin'  that  'ere  ban'box  to  pieces  !  There  !  " 

"  Ki-yi !  ki-yi !  "  yelped  the  dog. 

"  Pups  is  the  hatefulest  critturs  !  an'  I  detest  a  yaller 


68  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

pup  above  all !  Take  in  that  'ere  ban' box,  dear.  That 
grouty  Englishman  had  to  throw  it  right  down  by  the  gate, 
as  if  'twan't  nothin'  more'n  a  chunk.  He's  the  sourest, 
disagreeablest  man ;  phaugh ! "  with  a  gesture  of  disgust, 
"  how  his  breath  smelt !  " 

"  Why  didn't  ye  write  to  let  us  know  you  was  eomin'  ?  " 
cried  Mrs.  Jackwood.  "  You  thought  you'd  take  us  by 
surprise,  hey  ?  " 

"Why  didn't  I  write?"  echoed  the  old  lady.  "Don't 
none  o'  your  folks  ever  go  to  the  post-office,  I  wonder  ? 
Bim'lech  was  allus  jes'  so  slack,  and  allus  will  be,  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  fu's  I  know  !  I  wrote  you  a  week  ago 
yis'day,  an'  the  letter's  in  the  office  up  here  now." 

"Mother,  let  Bim  go  right  down  and  get  it,"  cried  the 
mortified  Phoebe. 

"  It'll  do  a  sight  o'  good  to  send  for't  now  !  Bim'lech 
may  tackle  up  an'  go  for  my  things,  though,  as  soon  as  ye 
please.  Do  shet  the  door  arter  ye  ! "  to  Phoebe,  who  ran 
out  to  call  her  father.  "I'm  in  a  perty  state  to  set  in  a 
draft  of  air !  You'll  have  to  larn  to  shet  doors  arter  ye, 
if  I  stay  here." 

Seated  in  the  rocking-chair  in  the  kitchen,  the  old  lady 
took  an  unfinished  stocking  from  her  bag,  and  began  to 
knit  industriously.  Presently  she  paused,  ceased  rocking, 
closed  her  eyes,  and  opened  her  mouth,  scowling  and  draw 
ing  in  her  breath,  as  if  to  provoke  a  sneeze.  Having 
succeeded  in  getting  off  a  powerful  double  sternutation, 
she  hastened  to  huddle  herself  into  the  corner,  looking 
peevishly  about  the  room. 

"  I'm  ketchin'  cold,  sure  as  this  world  !  I  ben  feelin'  a 
draft  on  my  neck  ever  sence  I  sot  down ;  but  I  couldn't 
tell,  for  the  life  o'  me,  where't  come  from.  I  allus  telled 
Bim'lech  this  was  the  wust,  wind-leakiest  house  't  could 
possibly  be  contrived ;  but  there's  never  ben  the  fust 
thought  o'  repairs  done  on't,  I  warrant,  sence  I  was  here ; 
Bim'lech's  so  shif'less  !  " 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  69 

Mrs.  Jackwood :  "  Oh,  wal,  mother,  we  have  to  git  along 
the  best  we  can,  ye  know.  We  can't  afford  extravagance." 

Old  lady :  "  But  you  might  be  decent  and  comf  'table,  'tail 
events.  Bim'lech  was  allus  fussin'  'bout  suthin'  'twan't  o' 
no  'arthly  kind  o'  use,  while  things  't  ought  to  be  'tended  to 
all  went  to  loose  ends.  If  you  was  right  smart,  and  had 
your  say  'bout  things,  as  you'd  ought  to  have,  things  'u'd 
look  a  little  different  round  here,  I  tell  ye  ! " 

These  remarks  were  interrupted  by  Phoebe  and  Bim, 
who  came  running  a  race  to  the  house,  followed  more 
soberly  by  their  father. 

"  Dear  me  !  how  rude  ye  be.  childern  ! "  cried  the  old 
lady,  with  a  painful  contortion  of  face.  "  You're  enough  to 
take  one's  head  off ! " 

"  Pheeb  tickled  my  back,  through  the  hole  in  my  shirt, 
with  a  darned  old  pigweed ! "  cried  Bim  ;  "  and  I'm  goin'  to 
pay  her ! " 

"  Oh !  what  a  voice  !  "  ejaculated  the  old  lady,  with  a 
tortured  expression.  u  It  goes  through  me  jest  like  a 
knife  ! " 

"  Bim'lech,  this  is  your  gran'mother,"  said  Mrs.  Jack- 
wood. 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  Bim,  showing  his  teeth  with  a  good- 
natured  grin. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak  to  her,  an'  not  be  so  boisterous  ?  " 

"  I  d'n'  know  what  to  say,"  said  the  boy,  lowering  his 
voice  and  looking  sheepish. 

"  Can't  ye  gi'  me  a  sweet  kiss,  now  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady, 
laying  her  knitting  on  her  lap;  "Phoebe  did.'' 

Abimelech,  giggling:  "I  do'  wanter!" 

Old  lady :  "  You  d'n'  know  what  I  got  for  ye  in  my  chist. 
Mebby  it's  a  jackknife,  now, —  who  knows?" 

The  boy  was  almost  persuaded ;  but  somehow  he  could 
not  discover  anywhere  on  the  old  lady's  face  a  spot 
smooth  enough  to  kiss,  except  the  tip  of  her  nose,  so  he 
concluded  not  to  indulge.  He  afterwards  had  no  occa- 


70  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

sion  to  regret  his  self-denial,  the  reputed  jackknife  in  the 
old  lady's  chest  turning  out  to  be  a  fiction. 

Old  lady  resentfully :  "  Wai,  you're  a  notty  boy,  an' 
notty  boys  don't  git  no  presents.  How  do  you  do  Bim'- 
lech  ? "  reaching  out  her  hand  to  Mr.  Jackwood. 

Mr.  Jackwood  greeted  her  heartily;  and  how  was  she 
herself  ? 

"  Oh,  I  ain't  a  bit  well,"  releasing  his  hand  immedi 
ately,  and  resuming  her  knitting.  "  An'  mor'n  all  that  I 
never  expect  to  be.  My  constitution's  all  broke  to  pieces. 
I've  a  dre'ful  rheumatiz.  An',  what's  wus'n  all,  there's  no 
body  in  this  world  't  has  the  leastest  mite  o'  charity  for  me, 
or  pity  on  my  sufferin's." 

Taking  from  her  bag  a  cotton  handkerchief,  embellished 
with  a  print  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  she  wiped  her  eyes  on 
it,  and  put  it  back  again.  Then,  observing  that  everybody 
was  very  much  distressed,  she  assumed  an  air  of  grim  sat 
isfaction  over  her  knitting. 

"Wai,  wal,  gran'mother,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood  sympathet 
ically,  "  you'll  have  your  reward ;  if  not  here,  herearter." 

"  I've  giv'  up  expectin'  anything  in  this  life,"  she  whim 
pered.  "Here  I've  slaved  an'  slaved,  all  my  days,  an' 
brought  up  a  large  family  of  childern,  an'  edicated  'em  as 
well  as  childern  ever  need  to  be  edicated,  an'  gin  'em  all  a 
good  settin'  out  when  they  got  married  —  an'  that's  all  the 
thanks  I  git  for't !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  mother  ! "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood  cheerily. 

The  old  lady  pursued  her  knitting,  while  the  tears  ran 
ostentatiously  down  her  cheeks. 

"  I  hain't  a  child  in  the  world  but  what  wishes  me  out  o' 
the  way,  —  for  I  ain't  nothin'  but  a  burden  now  to  no 
body  ! " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Don't,  mother,  talk  so,  an'  give  way  to 
your  feelin's  ! " 

Old  lady :  "  Oh,  wal,  if  I  distress  people,  I  s'pose  I  mus'- 
n't.  It's  the  duty  of  ol'  people  to  give  up,  when  they've 


GRANDMOTHER  RIGGLESTY  71 

wore  themselves  out  in  doin'  fer  their  childern;  it's  a  sin 
to  speak  on't,  or  complain.  Oh,  wal,"  drying  her  eyes  on 
the  Good  Samaritan,  "  I'll  be  more  careful  in  futur'." 

Finding  the  scene  too  painful,  Mr.  Jackwood  went  out  to 
harness  the  horse,  in  order  to  go  for  the  old  lady's  bag 
gage. 

"I'm  real  sorry  she's  come  here  to  stop,"  said  Bim. 
"  We  can't  have  no  fun  while  she's  around." 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  Hush  up  !  You  mus'n't  talk  so.  It's 
your  duty  to  love  her,  an'  make  things  pleasant  for  her." 

Abimelech  :  "  How  can  a  feller  ?  Say,  Pheeb  !  "  to  his 
sister,  who  ran  out  to  speak  for  some  "best  green  tea" 
from  the  grocery,  for  the  old  lady's  use,  "  how  do  you 
like  her  ?  " 

Phoebe,  in  a  disappointed  tone :  "  I  was  in  hopes  she'd 
be  real  good  and  cosey  !  I  could  done  anything  for  her  if 
she  was  like  Bertha  Wing's  gran'inother  —  but  I  don't  like 
her  a  bit ;  so,  there  !  " 

"  Tut,  tut  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood. 

The  old  lady  had  by  this  time  discovered  a  strange  face 
through  the  half-open  door  of  the  adjoining  room. 

"  Who  is  that  crittur  ?  "  she  demanded.  "  What's  her 
name  ?  What's  she  here  for  ?  " 

"  Her  name  is  Charlotte  Woods,"  whispered  Mrs.  Jack- 
wood,  closing  the  door.  "  She  was  travelling  an'  lost  her 
way,  somehow,  when  father  found  her  and  brought  her 
home." 

"  Fiddlestick's  eend  !  That's  jest  like  you'n'  Bim'lech, 
now,  to  take  in  every  straggler  comes  along  !  Do  you 
know  anything  about  her  ?  " 

Mrs.   Jackwood   only  knew  that  Charlotte    had    proved 

herself  honest,  and  "  willin'  to  do."     Besides,  she  appeared 

to  have  undergone  so  many  trials  and  hardships,  that  they 

—  the    Jackwoods,   not    the    trials    and    hardships  —  were 

"'re'ly  gittin'  quite  attached  to  her." 

"  Hum-drum  !  "     ejaculated     Grandmother     Eigglesty. 


72  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Them's  your  notions  !  Trot  the  crittur  out  here,  and 
le'  me  look  at  her  ! " 

Charlotte  had  been  found  to  possess  some  skill  in  orna 
mental  needlework ;  and  she  was  now  busily  engaged  on 
some  sewing  for  Phoebe,  which,  in  her  ardor  to  do  something 
to  gratify  her  friends,  she  was  unwilling  to  leave  until  fin 
ished  ;  but,  on  being  informed  of  the  old  lady's  desire  for 
an  introduction,  she  put  her  work  aside,  and  arose  to  ac 
company  Mrs.  Jackwood. 

"  You  must  be  prepared  to  put  up  with  her  odd  notions. 
You'll  do  that  for  my  sake." 

"  What  wouldn't  I  do  for  your  sake  ?  "  said  Charlotte. 
"  You  have  been  so  kind  to  me  ! " 

"  Oh,  wal,  I  mean  to  do  as  I'd  be  done  by,"  replied  Mrs. 
Jackwood,  with  suffused  features.  "  The  best  miss  it 
sometimes  ;  I  know  I  do  —  an'  we  must  have  charity  one 
for  another.  I  hope  you'll  have  charity  for  her  ;  she's  got 
well  along  in  years,  an'  there's  no  denyin'  but  she's  had 
a  many  things  to  try  her.  Le'  me  take  your  work  along ; 
that'll  please  her." 

Charlotte  herself,  one  would  have  thought,  must  please 
the  most  fastidious  of  grandmothers.  Mrs.  Kigglesty, 
however,  regarded  her  only  with  a  scrutinizing  scowl. 
The  girl's  countenance  fell  :  a  phenomenon  the  old  lady 
construed  at  once  into  a  demonstration  of  guilt.  Then  she 
asked  a  number  of  sharp,  hard  questions,  which  Charlotte 
could  not  answer  without  embarrassment :  another  indica 
tion  that  she  was  a  deceitful  character.  Phoebe  thought 
to  give  matters  a  pleasant  turn  by  calling  attention  to  the 
needlework. 

"  Heugh  !  "  grunted  the  old  lady  ;  "  that's  a  fine  way  to 
waste  one's  time  !  Time's  money  ;  did  ye  know  it,  child  ? 
Say  !  did  ye  know  it  ?  "  with  a  disagreeable  look  at  Char, 
lotte. 

"It  is  sometimes  better  than  money,  I  think,"  replied 
Charlotte. 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  73 

"  Better'n  money  ? "  echoed  Grandmother  Rigglesty. 
You  would  have  thought  her  some  amazed  and  indignant 
female  inquisitor,  examining  a  fair  heretic.  "  Better'n 
money  ?  What  on  'arth  d'ye  mean  by  that  ?  " 

The  timid  girl  shrank  from  making  any  reply ;  but, 
being  pressed,  she  drew  herself  up  with  a  grace  and  dig 
nity  which  delighted  Phoebe,  and  answered  modestly  that, 
while  she  thought  time  should  not  be  wasted,  she  deemed 
it  too  precious  to  be  coined  up,  every  hour  and  minute, 
into  dollars  and  cents. 

"  And  what  would  ye  do  with't  ?  Le'  me  look  !  "  The 
old  lady  snatched  the  collar  from  Phoebe's  hand.  "  Oh,  I 
see  !  "  sarcastically.  "  This  is  very  fancical !  But  what 
does  the  Scriptur's  say  'bout  vanities?  You'd  better 
'nough  on't  be  to  work  on  sutliin'  useful." 

Charlotte  had  no  word  to  offer  ;  but,  with  a  swelling  heart 
and  quivering  lip,  she  took  her  work,  and  quietly  withdrew. 

"  You  may  depend  on't,"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  "  she's 

a  dangerous  person  to  have  round !     I  should  'a'  had  my 

'spicions  on  her,  see  her  where  I  would.     That  guilty  look 

—  that   guilty   look  ! "   with   a   grimace.      "  Don't  tell   me 

'bout  that  gal's  honesty  !  " 

"I  think  she's  a  perfect  beauty!"  cried  Phoebe. 

"  Beauty  skin  deep !  "  sneered  Grandmother  Rigglesty. 
"  Gals  of  her  character  generally  have  enough  o'  that.  But, 
if  your  mother  knows  what  is  good  for  you,  miss,  she'll  send 
the  crittur  away  from  here,  mighty  quick  !  " 

"  Mother  ivoii't  send  her  away  —  I  don't  believe !  "  said 
Phoebe  in  an  undertone. 

"What's  that  ?  "  demanded  the  old  lady.  "  Don't  handle 
them  dishes  so  careless ;  you'll  break  'em,  next  you  know. 
What's  that  you're  mutterin'  ?  " 

"  I'll  handle  the  dishes  just  as  carelessly  as  I  please ! " 
declared  Phoebe  in  the  same  indistinct  utterance. 

"  You  want  me  to  train  ye  a  little  while,  miss  !  I'd  larn 
ye  to  mutter  when  you're  spoke  to  !  " 


74  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Phoebe  !  " 

Phoebe,  pouting:  "I  don't  care.  I'd  take  Charlotte's 
part  if  all  the  world  was  ag'inst  her." 

Old  lady,  whimpering :  "  Wai,  wal !  I  expect  sich  treat 
ment,  an'  I  must  put  up  with't !  I  see  I  ain't  wanted 
here  !  "  More  tears,  and  the  Good  Samaritan  again.  "  My 
own  darter's  darter  sasses  me  to  my  face !  Wal,  wal,  I'm 
an  ole  woman,  an'  'tain't  no  matter  ! " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  reproved  Phoebe  severely ;  and  the  girl 
herself,  touched  with  compunctions,  declared  that  she  did 
not  intend  to  hurt  anybody's  feelings,  and  asked  to  be  for 
given.  This  was  a  triumph,  upon  the  strength  of  which 
the  old  lady  and  the  Good  Samaritan  enjoyed  a  most  con 
fidential  and  tearful  season,  until  Mr.  Jackwood  and  Bim 
entered  with  the  baggage,  and  the  family  sat  down  to 
supper. 

At  the  table  Mrs.  Eigglesty  manifested  a  healthful  re 
sentment  of  insults,  by  refusing  to  accept  any  food  at  the 
hands  of  the  unforgiven  Phoebe,  and  waiting,  with  an  in 
jured  expression,  to  be  served  by  either  Mr.  Jackwood  or 
Betsy.  To  add  still  further  to  the  general  comfort,  she 
significantly  hitched  her  chair  away  from  Charlotte's,  and 
gathered  up  the  skirts  of  her  bombazine  with  virtuous  care, 
as  if  to  avoid  all  contact  or  compromise  with  so  question 
able  a  person. 

It  was  the  first  time  Charlotte  had  been  present  at  an 
unsocial  meal  in  Mr.  Jackwood's  house.  Her  heart  was 
full ;  she  could  not  eat ;  for  already  she  saw  that  her  evil 
genius  —  if  such  things  are  —  had  re-appeared,  after  a  brief 
respite,  in  the  form  of  a  grim  old  grandmother,  who  would 
not  rest  until  she  was  once  more  driven  forth  into  the 
shelterless  and  stormy  wastes  of  life. 

They  had  Grandmother  Rigglesty  again  for  breakfast 
the  next  morning. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  sighed  the  old  lady,  declining  into  the 
rocking-chair,  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  burden  anybody  much 


GRANDMOTHER  RIGGLESTY  75 

longer !  Them  that's  so  anxious  to  get  red  o'  me'll  have 
their  wish  soon  enough,  at  this  rate.  Jest  look  at  my 
tongue,  Betsy  ;  did  ye  ever  see  sich  a  tongue  in  all  your 
life  ?  I  had  a  dreadful  nightmare  last  night.  Didn't  any 
body  hear  me  groan  ?  Wai,  it's  a  blessin'  to  sleep  sound, 
'specially  when  an  ol'  person  like  me,  that  ain't  o'  no 
'arthly  'count  to  nobody,  is  in  distress.  'Twouldn't  be 
wuth  while  to  disturb  young  folks,  though  it  might  save 
my  life  jest  to  pull  my  little  ringer,  when  I  have  them 
horrid  nightmares.  Wai,  it  is  to  be  expected  't  every 
smooth-spoken  crittur  't  comes  along,"  turning  her  back 
to  Charlotte,  "will  have  attention  paid  'em,  while  a  poor 
ol'  body  that's  slaved  the  life  out  of  her  for  her  childern, 
—  wal,  no  matter  !  " 

Observing  that  her  complaints  had  produced  their  legiti 
mate  effect,  in  making  all  around  her  unhappy,  Mrs.  llig- 
glesty  found  it  necessary  to  send  to  the  spare  bedroom  for 
the  Good  Samaritan,  left  rolled  up  under  her  pillow.  That 
ancient  comforter  being  brought,  she  communed  with  him 
over  her  plate,  until  everybody's  appetite  appeared  reduced 
to  the  same  low  condition  with  her  own.  Rallying  a  little 
at  this,  she  made  a  feeble  attempt  upon  the  breakfast,  but 
declared  that  even  the  tea  had  a  disagreeable  taste. 

"  Oh,  wal,  I  may  as  well  give  up  eatiir  entirely.  Folks 
don't  have  sich  hulsome  victuals  now-days  as  they  use'  to. 
Everything  turns  my  stomach." 

As  she  sat  back  in  her  chair,  sighing,  and  stirring  her  tea 
with  a  desolate  expression,  Phoebe  left  the  table,  and  stood 
pouting  at  the  kitchen  door. 

"  I  can't  have  that  air  blowin'  onto  me ! "  cried  Mrs.  Kig- 
glesty.  "  My  shawl  is  off  my  shoulders  too  !  I'm  all  over 
aches  a' ready,  from  the  sole  o'  my  head  to  the  crown  o' 
my  foot !  Sich  a  pain  all  through  the  back  o'  my  neck  as 
I  woke  up  with  this  mornin'  !  nobody  can  never  know 
iiothin'  'tall  'bout  it !  I  can  twist  my  head  so,"  she 
turned  it  towards  her  right  shoulder,  "  but,"  turning  it  in 


76  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

the  same  way  towards  her  left,  "I  can't  twist  it  so  for 
the  life  o'  me.  An'  every  time  I  move  it  I  have  to  scream 
right  out,  as  if  you'd  cut  me  with  a  knife  !  Ou  ! " 

Thereupon  Bim  laughed  till  he  choked,  and  rushed  head 
long  from  the  table,  with  the  milk  he  had  been  drinking 
running  out  of  his  nose. 

Thus  a  change  comes  over  Mr.  Jackwood's  house. 

Charlotte  is  not  the  only  sufferer,  though  the  greatest. 
From  the  elder  Jackwood  down  to  the  hopeful  Bim,  all  are 
subject  to  the  sway  of  the  despotic  grandmother.  With 
the  Good  Samaritan  for  her  prime  minister,  she  reigns 
supreme,  —  her  knitting-work  her  sceptre,  the  rocking-chair 
her  throne.  She  has  early  declared  her  intention  to  revo 
lutionize  things  a  little.  The  first  article  in  her  code  is  — 
work.  She  cannot  endure  aught  that  savors  of  idleness. 
Even  the  senior  Jackwood  she  spurs  to  a  more  rigid  econ 
omy  of  time.  The  long  noonings  he  so  much  enjoys  fill 
her  with  amazement  and  distress.  So  much  precious  time 
wasted !  such  carelessness  of  worldly  gain !  'twould  be 
enough,  she  says,  to  try  the  patience  of  Job.  She  cannot, 
it  is  true,  order  Mr.  Jackwood  to  go  about  his  business  in 
so  many  words ;  but  she  can  whip  the  father  over  the  con 
venient  shoulders  of  the  son.  So,  after  dinner,  Bim,  to 
use  his  own  expression,  "  has  to  take  it." 

"  Sonny,"  calls  Grandmother  Eigglesty  from  her  throne. 

"  What  ?  "  snarls  Bim,  who  hates  to  be  called  sonny. 

"  W-h-a-t  ?  Is  that  the  way  to  answer  ?  You  ha'n't  had 
me  to  larn  ye  manners,  or  ye  wouldn't  speak  so !  What  ? 
Come  here,  an'  you'll  know  what !  " 

Bim,  who  is  engaged  in  putting  together  the  frame  of  a 
small  wagon,  under  the  stoop,  kicks  off  one  of  the  wheels 
vindictively,  and  comes  forward,  with  fiery  looks,  to  learn 
his  sentence. 

Old  lady,  coaxingly  :  "  Don't  ye  want  to  hold  this  yarn 
for  me  to  wind  ?  —  that's  a  good  boy  !  " 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  11 

Abimelech,  scoAvling  fiercely :  "  I  knowed  there'd  be 
suthin'  for  me  to  do  !  " 

"  Wai,  you  be  an  abused  child,  I  must  say  f  or't !  You 
wa'n't  born  to  work,  was  ye  ?  " 

"  No,  by  darn,  I  wa'n't !  And  I  ain't  goiii'  to  work  every 
minute  o'  the  time,  if  I  haf  to  run  away  ! " 

"  Does  your  father  hear  that  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood,  tipped  back  in  his  chair  by  the  door, 
enjoying  a  comfortable  smoke,  perceives  that  he  is  expected 
to  interfere. 

"  Bim'lech  ! "  in  a  warning  tone,  "  don't  le'  me  hear  no 
more  o'  that  !  " 

Old  lady :  "  It  does  a  grea'  deal  o'  good  to  correct  a  child 
that  way  !  A  child  o'  mine  wouldn't  a'  got  off  so  easy  !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood,  with  a  transparent  frown :  "  Be  a  good 
boy,  now,  or  I  shall  take  ye  in  tow." 

The  old  lady  adjusts  the  yarn  to  the  boy's  hand. 

Abimelech,  submitting  with  a  bad  grace  :  "  Wind  fast, 
anyway  ! " 

Old  lady  :  "  You  needn't  be  so  uppish  'bout  it !  ;Twon't 
hurt  ye  to  hold  yarn  a  little  while." 

"  Father  takes  a  noonin',  and  why  can't  I  ?  " 

"  If  he  does,  /  don't !  I  never  think  of  sich  a  thing. 
I  never  brought  up  my  childern  to  sich  lazy  habits,  nuther." 
Mr.  Jackwood  winces.  "  Hain't  your  father  nothin'  in  the 
world  for  you  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  so  !  There  ain't  a  boy  nowheres  round 
here  has  to  tug  it  so  hard  as  I  do.  I'm  gittin'  round- 
shouldered  a'ready." 

"  What'll  ye  be  when  you've  done  as  much  work  as  I 
have  ?  There  !  you've  held  the  yarn,  an'  it  hain't  quite 
killed  ye,  arter  all  the  fuss  !  Don't  go  to  putterin'  with  that 
wagon  now.  You'd  better  go  'n'  finish  the  fence  you  was 
to  work  on  this  forenoon." 

Abimelech,  drawing  Rover's  tail  through  the  centre  of  a 
wagoD-whee] :  "  I  can't  do  nothin'  to  the  fence  without 
father." 


78  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Old  lady,  losing  patience  :  "  Do  see  that  boy  !  I  wish 
the  dog  'u'd  bite  !  I  should  think  your  father  —  How  I 
do  detest  shif  lissness  !  Go  'n'  split  some  wood  !  " 

Abimelech,  grumbling  :  "  The  axe  's  out  in  the  lot,  an'  I 
ain't  goin'  to  split  wood  for  a  noonin'  for  nobody  ! " 

Old  lady,  exasperated :  "  Oh,  dear !  was  ever  so  ugly  a 
young-one  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood,  sitting  uneasily  in  his  chair :  "  Bim'lech  ! 
what  ye  'bout  ?  " 

Abimelech  sharply  :  «  Nothin'  ! " 

Phoebe :  "  He's  trying  to  make  an  exletree  of  Rover's 
tail ;  that's  all.  Tie  a  knot  in  it,  Bim ;  then  the  wheel 
won't  come  off." 

Old  lady  :  "  Do  hold  yer  tongue,  an'  tend  to  them  dishes  ! 
Sich  childern  !  If  I  was  in  yer  mother's  place  I'd  cuff  yer 
ears,  both  on  ye  !  Now,  what  business  have  you  got  to  laff, 
I'd  like  to  know  !  "  —  to  Charlotte.  "  If  yer  mind  was  in 
yer  work,  as  it  ought  to  be  —  I  wish  I  could  have  my  way 
in  this  family  !  Things  'u'd  go  a  little  different,  I  guess  !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood,  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe : 
"  Come,  Bim'lech,  ye  ready  ?  " 

Bim  furiously :  "  What  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood :  "  Time  to  go  to  work.  Guess  we'll  take 
some  matches  out  in  the  lot,  an'  see  if  that  'ere  stump  '11 
burn  this  afternoon." 

Abimelech  :  "  That's  jest  the  way  !  Con  —  demn  it  all  ! " 
dashing  the  wagon  against  the  cheese-press.  "  There  !  I've 
broke  it !  and  I'm  glad  on't.  I  can't  have  a  minute  to 
myself!" 

Such  scenes  are  of  daily  occurrence.  The  old  lady  dis 
plays  a  rare  ingenuity  in  discovering  occasions  for  the 
exercise  of  her  reformatory  spirit.  The  sink-pump  is  so 
noisy  that  it  "jumps  right  through  her  bones  "  when  any 
one  goes  to  it  for  water.  The  pigpen  is  too  far  from  the 
house,  the  stables  too  near.  The  stove-oven  is  the  "  wust 
thing "  to  bake  shortcake  in  ever  invented.  Then,  there 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  79 

are  those  "plaguy  turkeys  and  chickens,"  dodging  into  the 
kitchen  a  hundred  times  a  day  !  A  still  greater  annoy 
ance  is  the  dog  Rover.  Him  she  neglects  no  opportunity 
to  cuff  or  kick.  AVhen  he  is  lying  quietly  under  the  stove, 
she  punches  him  with  the  broom-handle,  she  pinches  him 
with  the  tongs.  And  when  all  these  subjects  of  complaint 
are  exhausted  for  the  day,  she  falls  back  upon  her  lame 
shoulder,  pities  herself  to  tears,  and  has  recourse  to  the 
Good  Samaritan. 

By  some  subtle  logic  of  her  own,  not  demonstrable  to 
common  minds,  the  old  lady  connects  all  these  afflicting 
circumstances  with  Charlotte,  as  their  centre  and  source. 
"  Things  would  go  very  different  if  'twan't  for  that  up 
start  ! "  says  Grandmother  Rigglesty.  Whatever  the  evil 
complained  of,  —  the  poultry,  the  pump,  the  dog,  or  the 
laziness  of  Bim  and  the  elder  Jackwood,  —  her  suspicious 
glances  single  out  Charlotte  as  somehow  guilty  and  respon 
sible.  Even  her  rheumatism,  of  twenty  years'  standing, 
seems  mysteriously  related  to  the  same  sinister  cause. 

This  treatment  is  insufferable.  It  leaves  Charlotte  no 
moment  of  peace.  She  feels  impelled  to  leave  her  kind 
friends,  to  whom  she  perceives  that  her  presence  brings 
only  discomfort  and  distress.  But  Phoebe  clings  to  her 
with  all  the  vehemence  of  a  girlish  attachment ;  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Jackwood,  out  of  the  sympathy  of  their  hearts, 
afford  her  what  consolation  and  encouragement  they  can. 

Thus  a  week  goes  by ;  when  one  day  there  comes  a 
crisis.  Under  pretence  of  making  a  critical  investigation  of 
Betsy's  cheeses,  the  old  lady  muffles  herself  in  her  shawl, 
ascends  the  chamber  stairs  with  painful  steps,  and,  having 
taken  care  to  divert  suspicion  from  her  real  purpose  by 
sneezing  loudly  five  or  six  times,  and  rattling  the  empty 
boards  on  the  shelves  in  the  cheese-room,  glides  softly  and 
stealthily  into  the  girls'  bed-chamber. 

Grandmother  Rigglesty  is  possessed  of  an  inquiring  turn 
of  mind.  She  takes  delight  in  all  those  little  discoveries 


80  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

and  surprises  incidental  to  rummaging  other  people's  boxes 
and  drawers ;  and  it  is  this  praiseworthy  interest  in  her 
neighbor's  affairs  that  attracts  her  eager  fingers  to  Phoebe's 
letter-box,  then  to  the  bureau  and  closet.  With  what  vivid 
enjoyment  she  scrutinizes  every  garment,  trinket,  and  silly 
schoolgirl  note  !  But,  like  all  earthly  pleasures,  this  of 
ransacking  is  transient  and  unsatisfactory.  Arrived  at  the 
farthest  obscure  corner  of  the  clothes-room,  she  is  ready  to 
weep  like  Alexander  when  he  had  no  more  worlds  to  con 
quer.  She  turns,  and  in  the  dark  hits  her  head  against  the 
low  roof.  Incensed,  she  peers  around,  as  if  to  see  what 
audacious  rafter  inflicted  the  knock.  Ha !  what's  this  ? 
Something  carefully  folded  and  put  away  over  the  beam. 
She  drags  it  out ;  she  holds  it  up  to  the  light ;  she  turns  it 
over,  and  around,  and  inside  out. 

"  Sakes  alive ! "  grumbles  Grandmother  Rigglesty, 
"  what's  here  ?  An  ol'  merino,  sure's  I  live !  Betsy 
never  had  sich  a  gownd  ! "  Turning  it  again.  "  It  can't 
be  Phoebe's."  Still  another  turn.  "It"  —  the  old  lady's 
features  contract  —  "  it's  that  crittur's  !  " 

With  renewed  curiosity,  sharpened  by  malice,  she  searches 
for  pockets ;  and,  finding  one,  explores  it  eagerly. 

"  What  on  airth ! "  drawing  forth  her  hand.  A  small 
package  is  brought  to  the  light,  and  she  makes  haste  to 
undo  it.  "An  ol'  woman's  cap!"  splutters  Grandmother 
Rigglesty  ;  "  gray  hair  !  "  still  greater  astonishment,  "  and 
green  spectacles !  Massy  sakes  !  It  all  comes  to  me  as 
clear  as  day,  —  cap,  spectacles,  an'  all !  " 

Without  pausing  to  reflect  that  she  is  about  to  expose 
her  own  dishonest  intermeddling,  down-stairs  she  hurries, 
and,  bursting  into  the  kitchen,  displays  her  trophies. 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  taking  a  custard-pie  from  the  oven, 
drops  it  upon  the  nearest  chair,  and  regards  her  with 
amazement.  In  her  excitement  the  old  lady  has  placed 
the  spectacles  on  her  own  nose,  where  they  tremble  with 
the  agitation  which  shakes  her  unstrung  nerves. 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  81 

"  W-w-w-where  is  that  hussy  ? "  brandishing  the  cap 
and  wig.  "  Xow,  Betsy,  I  guess  you'll  believe  what  I 
say  !  Didn't  I  t-t-t-tell  ye  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  cries  Mrs.  Jackwood. 

Charlotte  sits  plying  her  needle  by  the  open  window, 
when,  aroused  by  the  sudden  burst  of  the  storm,  she  looks 
up,  and  perceives  at  a  glance  what  has  occurred.  The 
color  leaves  her  cheek ;  but,  without  a  word,  she  bows  her 
head  over  her  work,  and  waits  for  the  commotion  to  pass. 

"  Matter  ! "  echoes  Grandmother  Kigglesty.  "  Look  at 
this  'ere  gownd  ! " 

"I've  seen  it  before,"  observed  Mrs.  Jackwood,  " hain't  I  ? 
Why,  it's  Charlotte's.'' 

"  I  seen  it  'fore  you  ever  did ! "  cries  Grandmother 
Rigglesty.  "  A  stragglin'  woman  stopped  to  Jacob's,  down 
to  Sawney  Hook;  an'  she  wore  this  very  same  gownd,  an' 
spectacles,  an'  false  hair,  I  can  take  my  oath !  I  was  sick 
a-bed,  or  she  wouldn't  'a'  got  off  as  she  did.  I  knowed  she 
"was  an  impostor  the  minute  I  sot  eyes  on  her ;  but  Jacob 
wouldn't  hear  to  't ;  an'  now  it  all  turns  out  jest  as  I  said. 
'Twas  this  crittur !  Look  up  here  ;  how  green  ye  look  ! " 
—  as  if  the  phenomenon  were  Charlotte's  fault,  and  not 
that  of  the  colored  glasses.  "  What  ye  got  to  say  for  yer- 
self,  hey  •' " 

Charlotte  raises  her  head,  and  puts  back  her  dark  hair 
from  her  face.  Pale  and  cold  and  self-subdued,  with  a 
thrilling  beauty  in  her  aspect,  she  fixes  her  dark  eyes  upon 
the  angry  dame. 

"I  can  make  no  explanations,"  she  speaks  gently,  but 
there  is  a  quick  quiver  of  passion  in  her  lip ;  "  only  to 
those  who  have  trusted  me,"  tears  rush  to  her  eyes  as  she 
turns  to  Pluebe  and  her  mother,  "  I  would  say  this,  from  a 
grateful  heart,  that  I  have  not  willingly  deceived ;  but  it  is 
my  misfortunes  that  have  brought  me  here,  and  made  me 
what  I  am." 

Phcebe   vehemently:   "I  believe    you;    I   believe    every 


82  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

word  you  say ! "  throwing  her  arms  about  Charlotte's 
neck.  "And  I  wish  folks  would  let  you  alone,  and  mind 
their  own  business  !  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  agitated  :  "  Phoebe  !    Phoebe  ! " 
Grandmother  Rigglesty.     "  You  —  you  —  sassy   thing ! " 
Phoebe :  "  I  don't  care  !     I'll  stand  up  for  Charlotte  with 
my  last  breath.     I  only  wish  some  folks  who  treat  her  so, 
and  pretend  to  be  Christians,  were  half  as  good  as  she  is  ! " 
The  old  lady  infuriate ;  Mrs.  Jackwood,  fluttering,  tries 
to  make  peace ;  while  Charlotte,  touched  by  Phoebe's  de 
votion,  clasps  her  in  her  arms,  and  smiles  brightly  on  her 
shoulder. 

The  arrival  of  Mr.  Jackwood,  with  Bim  and  the  dog,  is 
opportune.     He  is  just  in  time  to  support  the  old  lady, 
who  totters  backward  in  a  fit  the  moment   she  perceives 
somebody  near  to  catch  her.     The  fit  is  generally  supposed 
to  be  feigned.     At  all  events,  either  from  habit  or  other 
wise,  that  remarkable  woman  finds  it  in  her  way  to  bestow 
a  kick  upon  Rover,  who,  forgetting  his  usual  precaution,  in 
the  general  excitement  approaches  his  enemy  just  as  the 
elder  Abimelech  eases  her  down  upon  a  chair. 
Bim,  through  his  teeth :    "  Bite  her,  Rove ! " 
Rover,  holding  up  one  foot :   "  Ki-yi !  ki-yi !  " 
Mrs.  Jackwood,  running  for  the  camphor,  and  stumbling- 
over  the  dog :  "  Git  out !     I  never  !  " 

Grandmother  Rigglesty,  starting  up  wildly :  "  What  am 
I  settin'  on  ?     Massy  sakes  !  if  't  ain't  that  bilin'  custard  ! " 
Mr.  Jackwood,  astounded :  "  If  that  don't  beat  all ! " 
Mrs.   Jackwood :  "  Strange   you   couldn't    see    that   pie7 
father ! " 

The  old  lady  totters  towards  the  bedroom,  dripping  cus 
tard  by  the  way. 

Mrs.  Jackwood :  "  Don't  se'  down,  mother !  I'll  bring  a 
towel." 

Mr.  Jackwood  holds  his  hands  behind  him,  and  regards 
the  consequences  of  the  disaster  with  a  look  of  consterna- 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  83 

tion.  Eover  licks  the  spatters  of  custard  from  the  floor 
and  chair,  and  timidly  approaching  the  mass  which  was  a 
pie,  now  a  crushed  and  smoking  ruin,  snuffs  and  dodges  as 
it  burns  his  nose.  Bim  sprawls  upon  the  floor,  screaming 
with  excessive  laughter. 

Phoebe,  excited :  "  I'm  glad  of  it !  If  she  hadn't  been 
meddling  with  what  didn't  belong  to  her,  she  wouldn't 
have  found  Charlotte's  dress.  What  right  has  she  got  in 
our  closet,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"Never  mind,"  says  Mr.  Jackwood,  approaching  Char 
lotte  ;  "  I'll  make  it  all  right ;  I'll  stand  by  ye  ! " 

"  Good  Mr.  Jackwood  !  But  I  have  brought  you  trouble 
enough  already.  Let  me  go  now,"  says  Charlotte  reso 
lutely  ;  "  I  cannot  stay  here  any  longer." 

Mr.  Jackwood,  remonstrating,  is  interrupted  by  a  knock 
at  the  front  door.  Rover  growls.  Bim  runs  to  admit  the 
visitor.  "  Take  'em  into  the  settm'-room ;  don't  let  'em 
come  in  here  !  "  Bim  did  not  hear,  or  did  not  heed.  "  I 
never  !  "  gasped  Mrs.  Jackwood.  Enter  Mr.  Dunbury. 

Mr.  Jackwood  cordially :  "  Good-arternoou,  neighbor. 
Take  a  chair.  Git  out,  dog  ! " 

Rover,  leaping  good-naturedly  upon  the  proud  English 
man's  trousers,  prints  them  with  custard. 

Phoebe,  flurried  :  "  Put  him  out-doors,  Bim  !  "  meaning 
Rover,  not  Mr.  Dunbury.  "  He's  had  his  feet  in  the  pie." 

Mr.  Dunbury,  very  red :  "  Don't  mind ;  no  damage 
done." 

His  eyes  rest  upon  Charlotte,  by  the  open  window,  bend 
ing  over  her  work.  Phoebe,  who  likes  to  introduce  people, 
introduces  her  friend.  The  Englishman  regards  the  fair 
stranger  with  surprise  and  instinctive  respect.  He  rises 
politely,  yet  not  without  some  embarrassment  at  meeting 
one  of  her  appearance  so  unexpectedly,  and,  resuming  his 
seat,  places  his  hat  over  a  hole  in  his  left  knee. 

Grandmother  Rigglesty,  curious  to  learn  who  has  come, 
enters  and  stands  with  her  back  toward  the  stove.  Recog- 


84  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

nizing  an  old  acquaintance,  she  says,  "  How  de  do  ?  "  with 
an  air  of  resentment,  designed  to  impress  him  with  the  fact 
that  she  possesses  a  memory  of  wrongs. 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  anxious  to  divert  attention  from  the  old 
lady  :  "  How  is  Mis'  Dunbury  to-day  ?  " 

Mr.  Dunbury :  "  She's  very  low  again.  She  will  be 
better  soon,  however,  I  hope,  for  we  expect  Hector  " 

Phoebe,  with  a  start  and  a  blush :  "  Hector !  Is  he 
coming  home  ?  " 

Mr.  Dunbury  :  "  He  has  written  that  he  will  be  here  to 
night.  I  called  in,"  turning  to  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  to  see  if  I 
could  borrow  your  wagon  to  bring  him  and  his  luggage 
down  from  the  village." 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  Sartin,  neighbor  Dunbury  ;  anything 
I've  got,  you're  welcome  to." 

Charlotte  escapes  to  her  chamber,  followed  by  Phoebe. 

"  Only  think,  Charlotte  ! "  cries  the  young  girl,  animated, 
"  Hector  Dunbury  is  coming  to-night !  He  will  go  right  by 
here.  We'll  be  on  the  lookout,  and  see  him." 

Charlotte  tenderly:  "I  should  like  to  see  your  hero. 
But  I  shall  not  be  here  when  he  goes  by." 

Phoebe,  with  a  frightened  air  :  "  What  do  you  mean  ? 
You  ain't  going  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear  child,  I  shall  go  !  You  must  not  oppose  me 
now ! " 

Phoebe  frantically,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  :  "  Mother  ! 
Mother !  You  sha'n't,  you  sha'n't  stir  out  of  this  house  to 
night  !  We  won't  let  you  ! " 

"  Phoebe,  dear  Phoebe  !  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  appearing  presently,  finds  the  two 
locked  in  a  close  embrace. 

"  Mother,  she  says  she  is  going !  Shall  she  ?  Tell 
father  !  He  won't  let  her,  I  know." 

Mrs.  Jackwood  offers  sober  counsel  to  dissuade  Charlotte 
from  her  purpose.  Meanwhile,  the  excited  Phoebe  runs  out, 
alarms  the  elder  Abimelech,  and  brings  him  to  the  chamber. 


GRANDMOTHER   RIGGLESTY  85 

For  once  in  his  life  Mr.  Jackwood's  quiet  spirit  is 
roused.  He  declares  that,  before  he  will  see  Charlotte 
leave  his  roof,  he  will  give  the  old  lady  her  "  walking- 
ticket,"  and  pack  her  off  to  Sawney  Hook  by  the  morning 
stage,  without  any  remorse  whatever. 

"  We've  had  enough  of  her  pesky  notions !  "  cries  Mr. 
Abimelech  Jackwood ;  and  puts  his  foot  down. 

Charlotte  is  more  and  more  distressed.  No,  no !  he 
must  not  do  that,  she  insists ;  and,  to  pacify  her  friends, 
she  promises  to  reconsider  her  resolution,  and  remain  with 
them  until  morning. 

But  reflection  only  confirms  her  in  the  thought  that  it  is 
her  duty  to  go.  Let  what  will  betide,  she  cannot,  —  she, 
who  has  no  claim  upon  her  too  kind  friends,  —  she  cannot  be 
the  cause  of  sending  a\vay  from  her  own  daughter's  house 
even  so  un \vorthy  and  unwelcome  a  guest  as  Grandmother 
Higgle  sty. 

No,  she  herself  must  go,  and  quietly  too,  to  make  the 
pain  of  parting  all  her  own.  Accordingly,  after  passing 
a  sleepless  night,  she  rises  in  the  still  of  the  morning, 
dresses  herself  by  the  moonlight  that  lies  so  calmly  in  the 
chamber,  imprints  a  kiss  on  Phoebe's  lips,  and  drops  a  tear 
upon  her  cheek,  without  awaking  her,  and  goes  forth  noise 
lessly  from  the  house.  She  wears  the  garments  given  her 
by  her  friends,  carrying  her  own  in  a  small  bundle  ;  and, 
thus  equipped  to  battle  with  the  world,  she  sets  out  upon 
her  journey  amid  a  silence  so  solemn  that  there  is  some 
thing  strange  and  awful  in  the  sound  of  her  own  light 
tread  upon  the  soft  dust  of  the  road. 


86  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


VII 

THE    DUNBURYS 

A  FAINT  whisper,  and  the  feeble  fluttering  of  a  white 
hand  on  the  pillow,  called  Bertha  Wing  to  the  bedside  of 
her  friend. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  wagon,  —  there,  is  not  that  my 
son's  voice  ?  " 

Miss  Wing  had  heard  nothing ;  and  the  invalid  sank  at 
once  into  despondency.  At  her  request,  and  maybe  to 
relieve  her  own  anxious  feelings,  Bertha  went  to  the  porch, 
and  listened  under  the  vines.  Hearing  no  sound  of  wheels, 
she  walked  out  beneath  the  trees,  and  looked  up  the  road. 
Still  no  Hector. 

It  was  now  dusk.  The  evening  was  calm  and  clear. 
Over  the  western  range  of  mountains  the  star  of  Love 
burned  with  a  pale  flame  in  the  silvery  sky,  while  in  the 
east  the  yellow  moon,  half-risen,  shone  like  a  wide,  lumi 
nous  tent  pitched  behind  the  hills. 

Bertha  saw  the  star,  and  the  moon,  and  the  shadows  in 
the  valley  all  around,  and  the  fair  vault  of  overarching 
blue ;  she  gazed  on  all  this  beauty,  until  no  longer  able  to 
control  her  woman's  heart,  which  had  long  been  disciplined 
to  suffer  and  be  still,  she  leaned  against  one  of  the  maples 
by  the  fence  and  wept. 

But  she  hastened  to  check  her  tears.  She  looked  up 
and  smiled,  and  said,  "  I  will  be  strong  !  "  At  that  instant, 
beneath  the  heaped-up  foliage  that  towered  above  her,  a 
bat  flitted  in  zig-zag  course  athwart  the  gloom.  It  startled 
her,  for  she  was  looking  for  some  fair  omen  whence  to 


THE  DUNBURYS  87 

gather  hope  ;  her  eyes  followed  it  with  a  sort  of  fascina 
tion,  when,  as  it  disappeared  in  the  dusk,  she  beheld,  in 
the  direction  of  its  angular  flight,  the  figure  of  a  man. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  escape  ;  but,  on  reaching  the 
porch,  she  turned  again,  and  met  the  visitor  at  the  gate. 
It  was  Mr.  Rukely,  the  minister.  He  greeted  her  with 
marked  tenderness  of  manner,  and  inquired  for  Mrs.  Dun- 
bury. 

"Nothing  but  the  hope  of  seeing  Hector  seems  to  sustain 
her,"  answered  Bertha,  with  a  slight  tremor  in  her  tone. 

"  Is  Hector  coming  ?  "  asked  the  visitor,  surprised. 

"  Yes ;  he  wrote  that  he  would  be  here  to-night."  Miss 
Wing  dropped  her  eyes.  "  I  think  it  will  be  well  for  his 
mother;  she  pines  for  him,  as  if  he  were  her  life." 

Mr.  Kukely  looked  troubled;  but  she  invited  him  to  go 
in.  She  sat  by  and  heard  him  talk  to  her  invalid  friend, 
and  each  noble  word  that  fell  from  his  lips  dropped  like 
fire  upon  her  rebellious  heart.  When  he  went  away  she 
accompanied  him  to  the  porch,  and  pressed  his  hand  with 
strange  earnestness  at  parting. 

"  Forgive  me  !  forgive  me  !  "  she  said  in  deep  humility. 

"  Forgive  ? "  repeated  Mr.  Kukely,  with  a  benevolent 
smile.  "  For  what  ?  " 

Bertha :  "  Why  is  it  that  I  could  never  appreciate  you  ? 
Surely,  surely,  if  I  loved  only  the  good  and  the  true,  my 
natural  heart  would  never  have  rebelled  when  reason  said, 
<  Love  ! '  " 

Mr.  Rukely,  with  hopeful  interest :  "  Does  it  rebel  now  ?  " 

Bertha,  very  faintly:  "No,  not  now." 

But  she  could  not  look  up,  to  return  his  cordial  "  good 
night  ; "  and  when  she  raised  her  eyes,  he  had  passed  the 
gate.  Then  again,  as  before,  the  ominous  bat  flitted 
athwart  the  gloom,  and  disappeared,  flapping  around  the 
minister's  black  hat. 

Bertha  returned  to  the  bedside  of  her  friend,  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  pillows. 


88  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  What  is  it,  my  poor  girl  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Dunbury. 
"  Let  me  know  all  your  grief." 

Bertha  sobbed.  "  Has  God  forsaken  me  ?  Can  he  with 
hold  his  light  and  strength  from  one  whose  only  prayer  is 
to  serve  him  aright  ?  I  sometimes  think  so ;  else  why,  in 
all  my  struggles  " — 

She  checked  herself.  She  had  spoken  wildly;  she  was 
afraid  she  had  blasphemed.  Unwilling  to  impose  her  bur 
dens  on  her  friend,  she  arose,  and  endeavored  to  forget  her 
sorrows  in  offices  of  charity. 

Mrs.  Dunbury  had  been  sustained  by  an  interest  in  the 
girl's  sufferings ;  but  now,  when  the  conversation  turned 
upon  her  own  condition,  she  sank  at  once.  Hector  would 
not  come ;  all  hope  of  recovery  was  past ;  and  she  assured 
Miss  Wing,  with  pathetic  earnestness,  that  she  had  but  a 
few  minutes  to  live. 

Bertha  was  not  much  alarmed ;  yet,  pencil  in  hand,  she 
sat  down,  with  a  serious  face,  to  receive  the  mother's  dying 
words  to  her  son. 

Mrs.  Dunbury  was  an  English  woman,  of  strong  natural 
intelligence  and  fine  sensibilities,  ripened  by  culture  in 
early  life ;  and  misfortune  and  ill-health  had  not  so  far  im 
paired  her  intellect,  but  her  dying  message  evinced  all  the 
richness  and  grace  of  expression  of  her  happiest  days.  Un 
fortunately  it  was  never  completed.  Not  that  her  spirit 
departed,  but  that  Hector  arrived. 

Bertha  Wing  dropped  her  pencil,  and  stood  up,  pale,  and 
trembling  in  every  nerve,  as  if  she  had  seen  an  apparition  ; 
while  Mrs.  Dunbury,  who  had  just  composed  herself  to  die 
comfortably,  started  up  in  bed,  and  cried  out  with  joy. 
How  different  that  cry  from  the  late  dying  whisper ! 

"  Well,  mamma,  you  are  glad  to  see  the  prodigal ! "  said 
Hector,  in  a  voice  full  of  tenderness  and  cheer,  when-  she 
had  clung  spasmodically  to  his  neck  for  some  seconds. 
"Ah,  Bertha!  is  that  you?" 

Bertha's  conscious  face  became  suddenly  very  red,  and 


THE  DUNBUEYS  89 

there  was  a  slight  trill  of  agitation  in  her  voice,  as  she  re 
turned  the  greeting. 

"  If  mother  would  let  go  my  hand,  I  would  kiss  you, 
Bertha !  But,  upon  my  word,  I  can't  get  away !  How 
strong  you  are,  mother  !  Sick  ?  I  don't  believe  it !  Your 
pulse  —  as  good  a  pulse  as  anybody's  !  Your  eye  —  I  wish 
mine  were  half  as  bright.  All  you  need  is  a  little  stimulus." 

Mrs.  Dunbury,  shaking  her  head  :  "  Oh,  but  I  have  tried 
tonics  faithfully  !  " 

Hector  snapped  his  fingers  :  "  So  much  for  your  tonics  ! 
This  is  what  I  mean,"  pressing  her  hand  to  his  heart,— 
"  sympathy,   sympathy  !     Confess  to  me  that  this  is  what 
you  have  wanted." 

"  I  know  it  is  —  I  know  it !  You  make  me  a  different 
being.  Dear  boy  !  How  my  heart  has  yearned  for  you  ! 
You  are  my  only  hope  and  stay.  Your  father  —  your 
father,"  the  invalid's  voice  faltered,  "he  needs  you,  too, 
my  son.  Promise  me  now  —  this  night  —  that  you  will 
not  leave  us  again." 

At  mention  of  his  father,  Hector's  head  sank  pensively ; 
but,  recovering  himself,  he  looked  up,  pressing  the  invalid's 
hand. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  leave  you  in  a  hurry !  I  am  glad  to  feel 
once  more  the  peaceful  influences  of  the  old  home.  The 
woods  and  streams  and  mountains,  and  all  the  haunts  of 
this  most  beautiful  and  tranquil  of  green  valleys,  will  in 
spire  me  ;  and  it  seems  as  though  I  could  spend  years  of 
happy  quiet  beneath  this  dear  old  roof.  But  the  good  Di 
vinity  that  shapes  our  ends  leads  me  by  such  unexpected 
paths,  and  flings  open  before  me  so  many  gates  of  surprise, 
that  I  dare  make  no  definite  plans  for  the  future.  I  can 
promise  nothing." 

Hector  turned  his  fine  eyes  up  with  a  look  of  aspiration, 
which  thrilled  his  mother.  At  that  moment  the  shrill  old 
clock  rang  in  the  adjoining  room.  Hector  started. 

"  The  same  venerable  timepiece,  my  boy !      How  many 


90  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

hours  I  nave  counted  by  that  clock,  in  your  absence,  when 
every  stroke  has  rolled  an  almost  insupportable  burden  on 
my  soul !  But  I  must  not  forget  my  drops.  Bertha  ran 
into  the  other  room  ;  will  you  speak  to  her  ?  " 

"Perhaps  I  can  administer  to  you  myself.  Where  are 
your  drops  ? "  Hector  turned  to  the  vials  and  cups  on 
the  table.  "  Merciful  —  mother !  what's  all  this  ?  " 

"  Those  are  my  medicines.  I  have  been  obliged  to  resort 
to  quite  a  variety." 

Hector  looked  horrified.  "  Medicines  !  variety !  death 
and  destruction ! " 

"  You  frighten  me,  Hector.  Don't,  my  son  !  Why  do  you 
look  so  strangely  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  exceeding  wroth  !  Oh,  what  a  native 
power  you  must  have,  to  admit  so  many  deadly  enemies 
into  the  citadel  of  your  constitution,  and  hold  out  against 
them  all !  I  aspire  to  be  your  medical  adviser  for  a  few 
days.  Will  you  accept  me  ?  " 

Such  was  Mrs.  Dunbury's  confidence  in  Hector,  that  she 
acceded  at  once  to  his  proposal. 

"  And  you  engage  to  follow  my  directions  ?  " 

"  Willingly ;  for  I  am  sure  my  wise  and  generous  son 
can  do  no  wrong." 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  crash. 

Hector,  with  a  queer  expression :  "  Cannot,  eh  ?  Look 
there  ! " 

"  Why,  what  have  you  done  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  —  only  upset  the  table  a  little." 

«  And  the  vials  ?  " 

"  Are  smashed,  mamma  !  I'll  tell  you  now  it  happened. 
I  thought  I  would  give  you  a  tune  in  place  of  a  powder  ; 
and,  seeing  the  flute  on  the  bookcase,  I  reached  up  —  the 
table  was  in  the  way  —  I  placed  my  knee  gently  and  ad 
roitly  on  the  leaf,  and  —  the  result !  " 

Hector's  good-nature  was  irresistible. 

"  He  was  careful  to  put.  the  lamp  on  the  mantelpiece !  " 


THE  DUNBURY  S  91 

said  his  mother  to  the  dismayed  Bertha.  "  So  we  won't 
weep  over  the  catastrophe.  Call  Bridget;  she  will  clear 
away  the  ruins." 

Bridget,  getting  on  her  knees :  "  It's  ahl  on  the  ile- 
cloth,  Mrs.  Dunbury.  It  didn't  go  a  speck  on  the  carpet." 

Hector,  going:  "I  see  the  table  is  waiting  out  there, 
and  I  have  the  appetite  of  a  lion  !  The  stage  broke  down 
under  the  mountain ;  we  were  delayed  three  hours  in  a  sup- 
peiiess  wilderness,  and  I've  been  the  ill-tempered  man  you 
see  me  ever  since.  Nothing  but  toast  and  tea  will  cure  me. 
Come,  Bertha." 

After  supper  Mrs.  Dunbury  called  Miss  Wing  to  her 
side,  and  astonished  her. 

"  I  believe,"  said  she,  "  I  will  sit  up  a  little  while,  and 
have  my  bed  made." 

Bertha,  doubting  her  senses  :  "  Sit  up  !  " 

Hector,  advancing :  "  Why  not  ?  " 

Bertha :  "  She  has  not  sat  in  a  chair  for  five  days  ! v 

Hector  dogmatically :  "  Can't  help  it  !  Let  her  sit  up 
half  an  hour." 

And  she  who  was  so  lately  engaged  in  dictating  dying 
messages  was  straightway  assisted  to  a  chair. 

Meantime  Hector,  retiring  to  the  sitting-room,  and  seat 
ing  himself  at  his  mother's  seraphine,  near  the  open  door, 
played  "  Sweet  Home "  with  exquisite  tenderness  of  ex 
pression. 

Bertha  ran  to  him  in  haste.  "  She  is  crying !  I  am 
afraid,"  in  a  hurried  whisper,  "the  music  will  weaken 
and  depress  her." 

Hector,  striking  up  a  plaintive  Scotch  air :  "  Have  you 
no  confidence  in  the  new  physician?  Look  you,  Bertha! 
if  our  patient  asks  for  medicine,  tell  her  Dr.  Hector  has 
not  prescribed  any.  And  if  you  know  of  any  drugs,  fluid, 
herb,  or  powder,  allopathic,  homoeopathic,  botanic,  liar- 
bored  or  concealed  in  this  house,  gather  them  up  with 
affectionate  care,  and  place  them  on  the  table  convenient 


92  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

for  being  tipped  over.  Some  accidents  can  happen  as  well 
as  others ! " 

With  Hector's  eyes  upon  her,  with  his  lips  so  near  her 
face,  a  strange  trouble  held  poor  Bertha  as  by  a  spell. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  answered  mechanically,  "  that  your 
treatment  will  kill  her." 

"  Then  let  us  take  care  that  she  dies  a  happy  death ! " 

Hector  struck  into  an  inspiring  melody,  full  of  laughter 
and  tears,  which  ran  somehow  into  the  grand  movement 
of  a  spirited  march.  He  had  not  ended  when,  at  a  cry  of 
alarm  from  Bertha,  he  looked  up,  and  saw  his  mother, 
dressed  all  in  white,  approaching  with  uplifted  hand,  like 
a  somnambule.  Nothing  disconcerted,  he  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  her  bright,  dilating  orbs,  and  poured  all  the  fire  and 
energy  of  his  soul  into  the  concluding  strains. 

The  invalid's  hand  sank  slowly,  a  smile  flitted  over  her 
pale  face,  and  she  tottered  forward.  Hector  caught  her  in 
his  arms. 

A  few  minutes  later  Bertha  Wing,  in  the  bed-chamber, 
heard  a  well-known  touch ;  it  was  not  Hector's :  yet  she 
could  scarcely  credit  her  senses  until  she  looked,  and, 
behold  !  the  invalid  playing  with  all  the  grace  and  softness 
of  her  better  days  ! 

"  Here,  Bertha  !  "  cried  the  joyous  Hector,  when  his 
mother  had  finished ;  "  you  may  take  our  patient  now,  and 
put  her  to  bed." 


Late  that  night,  when  all  was  still  in  the  house,  Hector 
left  his  chamber,  and  went  forth  into  the  open  air.  The 
full  moon  was  shining  through  the  dooryard  trees.  In  her 
calm  light  the  dusky  mountain  slept,  like  a  monster,  with 
vast  head  and  lofty  shoulder  traced  upon  the  background 
of  the  sky.  The  valley  was  still  and  cool.  Willow  clumps 
and  shaggy  elm-trees,  dimly  seen,  marked  the  winding 
course  of  the  creek.  Towards  this  he  wandered  away  in 
the  silent  night. 


THE  DUNBUEYS  93 

But  the  old  path  by  which  he  used  to  stray  was  over 
grown.  And  the  sloping  turf  beneath  the  butternut-tree, 
whereon  he  used  to  lie  in  the  midsummer  noons,  and  lis 
ten  to  the  purling  water  and  the  humming  bees,  —  the 
dear  old  turf  was  gone  ;  the  freshet  floods  had  lapped  it 
away,  and  in  its  place  appeared  an  abrupt  bank,  covered 
with  high  grass. 

The  water  that  night  sang  the  same  old  tune,  but  with  a 
sadder,  deeper  meaning  than  of  yore.  In  that  plaintive 
ripple  what  voices  spoke  to  him  out  of  the  past ! 

Kousing  himself,  he  was  returning  to  his  chamber,  when, 
as  he  approached  the  porch,  he  heard  a  fluttering  among 
the  leaves,  and  saw  a  figure  start  up  from  the  bench. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Bertha ;  it  is  I." 

"  How  you  frightened  me  !  I  thought  you  asleep  and 
dreaming  by  this  time." 

"I  have  been  dreaming,  but  not  asleep,  Bertha.  Oh, 
dreams,  dreams  !  what  would  life  be  without  them  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  better  and  happier,"  said  Miss  Wing. 

"  That  was  spoken  with  a  sigh,  Bertha.  Your  dreams 
have  been  false,  then,  and  you  regret  them  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  regret  them,  for  they  have  taught  me  useful 
lessons.  But  I  am  awake  now,  and  shall  dream  no  more." 

"  Shake  off  this  illusion  of  existence,  then,  for  all  who 
live  are  dreamers.  Come,  Bertha,  sit  down,  and  tell  me 
your  heart's  history.  Ah,  how  your  hand  trembles  !  Are 
you  afraid  of  me  ?  " 

Bertha  confusedly  :  "  Yes,  I  am." 

"  Once  there  was  a  flower,  and  it  was  afraid  of  the  rain. 
Do  you  dislike  me  ?  I  think  you  did  not  in  old  times,  — 
did  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !     But  you  have  been  so  long  away  " 

"  I  have  become  as  a  stranger !  But  it  shouldn't  be  so. 
I  have  always  cherished  a  tender  remembrance  of  you. 
When  I  was  a  boy,  you  recollect,  I  fancied  myself  in  love 
with  little  Bertha  Wing.  People  laughed  at  me,  because 


94  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

you  were  older  than  I !  Well,  that  is  all  past ;  and  I  have 
outgrown  I  don't  know  how  many  fancies  since  !  I'm  a  fickle 
wretch,  Bertha  !  How  you  shiver  !  Are  you  cold  ?  " 

Bertha,  in  a  strange  tone :  "  The  air  is  chill.  Let  me 
go  in." 

Hector  kindly :  "  Go  in,  good  Bertha.  But  give  me 
that  kiss  you  owe  me.  My  mother  held  me,  you  know, 
and  I  couldn't  claim  the  right  of  an  old  friend.  What, 
so  shy  ?  " 

Bertha,  escaping:  "Another  time.  Not  now,  —  don't, 
Hector ! " 

He  loosed  his  hold,  and  the  next  moment  stood  alone 
under  the  porch. 

"  I  declare,"  thought  he,  "  that  girl  is  in  love  !  Some 
rogue  has  been  trifling  with  her.  Poor  Bertha !  " 

Hector  sighed ;  retired  to  his  room ;  went  to  bed ;  re 
mained  as  broad  awake  as  an  owl  for  three  mortal  hours  ; 
then,  lapsing  lightly  into  oblivion,  slept  till  the  crowing 
of  the  cock.  Unable  to  close  his  eyes  again,  he  turned  his 
face  to  the  window,  and  lay  watching  the  brightening  of 
the  east  through  a  notch  in  the  mountains.  First  a  few 
gray  streaks,  then  a  ruddy  glow,  and  at  last  up  came  the 
sun,  like  a  great  fiery  spider,  on  his  web  of  beams. 

Up  got  Hector,  also,  pulled  on  his  clothes,  and,  stepping 
out  upon  the  balcony  over  the  porch,  inflated  his  lungs  in 
the  fresh  morning  air.  Then  he  went  down-stairs;  and 
learning  from  Bertha  that  his  mother  was  awake,  hastened 
to  her  chamber.  He  found  her  shedding  tears. 

"What  now?  "he  cried.  "I  just  met  Bertha,  with  a 
pair  of  red  eyes,  in  the  hall." 

"  She  thinks  she  is  no  longer  needed  here,  and  she  is 
going  away.  I  am.  better,  she  says,  —  and  you  are  here 
now  to  comfort  me  "  — 

"  But  this  is  absurd !  Ho,  Bertha  Wing !  Come  here, 
you  trembling  culprit !  Do  you  think  you  are  going  to 
leave  us  so  ?  " 


THE  DUNBURYS  95 

Bertha :  "  I  should  be  glad  to  stay  —  but  —  it  will  be 
better  " 

She  hesitated,  blushed,  and  dropped  her  eyes  before 
Hector's  piercing  look.  Yet  she  was  firm.  Neither  his 
persuasive  eloquence  nor  Mrs.  Dunbury's  tears  could  move 
her. 

It  was  a  sudden  and  unaccountable  resolution  on  her 
part ;  nobody  knew  what  pain,  what  prayers  and  tears,  it 
had  cost  her.  After  breakfast,  looking  unusually  pale,  but 
with  a  small  hectic  spot  on  either  cheek,  she  quietly  with 
drew,  put  her  things  carefully  together,  and  took  leave  of 
her  friends. 

"Who  would  have  thought  so  quiet  a  body  as  you  could 
have  such  an  iron  will  ?  "  cried  Hector. 

"When  my  duty  is  clear,1'  said  Bertha,  — "  but  even 
then  I  am  too  easily  influenced." 

"  By  those  who  can  command  you,  —  not  by  me,  at  all  ! 
Well,  good-by,  mamma !  Expect  me  back  in  an  hour  or 
two,  and  Bertha  with  me.  I  shall  learn  if  she  is  wanted 
at  home ;  and,  if  it's  as  I  suppose,  we'll  only  take  a  pleasant 
ride  up  the  hill,  and  return  to  dinner." 

Bertha's  home  was  high  on  the  mountain  side.  It 
was  a  beautiful  drive  up  there,  that  bright  summer 
morning.  The  mountain  road  branched  out  from  the 
highway,  crossed  the  valley,  and  wound  its  snake-like 
course  up  the  steep  terraces  arid  slopes  of  the  western 
hills.  The  day  was  warm ;  the  yellow  sunshine  colored 
wood  and  field ;  and  often  toiling  up  the  difficult  ascent, 
the  young  man  stopped  his  panting  horse  in  some  quiet 
dell,  to  let  him  breathe  under  the  cool  shade  of  roadside 
trees. 

The  glory  of  the  morning,  and  the  beauty  of  the  scenery, 
inspired  Hector ;  a  full  joy  flowed  out  of  his  soul,  rippling 
and  sparkling  in  speech,  and  bathing  his  fine  face. 

Bertha  all  the  while  made  herself  outwardly  cold  and 
stony ;  but,  in  spite  of  her  will,  a  sweet  intoxication  stole 


96  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

over  her.  She  was  glad  when  the  pain  of  separation  came, 
and  Hector  helped  her  down  at  her  father's  house. 

It  was  a  small  wooden  house,  with  a  garden  on  the 
lower  side,  an  orchard  in  the  rear,  with  fields  beyond,  and 
the  thick  billowy  foliage  of  green  woods  farther  up  the 
mountain.  A  gate  opened  upon  a  path  which  led  through 
a  neat  little  yard  to  the  door.  Bertha  and  her  friend  were 
half-way  in  the  enclosure  when  an  old  lady  came  out  to 
greet  them. 

"Why,  Berthy,  is  that  you?"  she  cried,  shading  her 
eyes  with  her  forearm.  "  And  if  there  ain't  Hector  Dun- 
bury  !  Who  ever  expected  to  see  you  !  Did  you  jest  rain 
down  ?  " 

"  I  just  reined  up,"  replied  Hector,  shaking  hands  with 
the  delighted  old  lady. 

As  Bertha  was  entering  the  house  she  started  back,  per 
ceiving  a  strange  figure  lying  on  the  sitting-room  lounge. 

"  Don't  speak  loud,"  said  her  grandmother  ;  "  'twould  be 
a  pity  to  wake  her,  she  seemed  so  tired  and  troubled  when 
she  laid  down  ! " 

«  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  A  poor  gal  that  'pears  to  be  travellin'  a-f oot  an'  alone, 
poor  thing  !  She  was  goin'  over  the  mountain,  an'  stopped 
for  a  drink  o'  water ;  but  she  looked  so  pitiful,  't  I  went 
right  to  work  an'  made  her  a  cup  o'  tea,  an'  some  toast,  an' 
got  her  to  lay  down  an'  rest,  after  she'd  eat  a  mouthful. 
Poor  thing  !  She  dropped  asleep  jest  like  a  child.  She 
must  'a'  had  a  hard  ja'nt  this  mornin' !  " 

Hector  sat  down  on  the  threshold  of  the  outer  door,  and 
broached  the  subject  of  Bertha's  return;  Bertha,  mean 
while,  laying  off  her  bonnet  and  shawl  with  an  air  of  gen 
tle  firmness,  which  sufficiently  expressed  her  intention  to 
remain  where  she  was. 

"I  tell  ye  what,"  said  the  old  lady,  "I'm  dre'ful  lone 
some,  days  when  she's  away,  —  Susan  ain't  so  good  as  a 
pair  o'  tongs  for  comp'ny,  —  an'  I  guess  you  can  git  one  o' 


THE  DUNBUETS  97 

Sam  Fosdick's  darters ;  there's  three  on  'em  to  hum  now, 
doin'  nothin'.  'T  any  rate,  you  drive  up  on  the  hill ;  an'  if 
they  ain't  willin'  to  go,  nary  one  on  'em,  p'r'aps  Berthy 
will.  We'll  talk  it  over  an'  see,  time  you  come  along 
back." 

This  was  certainly  a  fair  proposition ;  and  Hector,  jump 
ing  into  the  buggy,  drove  up  to  the  dilapidated  old  house 
where  Sam  Fosdick's  daughters  lived.  He  found  them  all 
at  home, —  three  tall,  strong  girls,  yawning  away  the  morn 
ing  over  a  little  work.  They  were  slovenly  dressed,  not 
expecting  company ;  and  his  sudden  appearance  created  a 
nutter  among  them.  Without  much  ceremony  he  made 
known  his  errand. 

"  I  don'  know,"  whined  Mrs.  Fosdick,  a  shrivelled,  sour- 
faced,  discontented  woman,  who  sat  picking  over  a  dish  of 
wormy  peas  in  the  corner.  "  We  ain't  so  poor  't  our  gals 
are  obleeged  to  go  out  to  work;  but  it's  jest  as  they  can 
agree.  What  do  you  say,  'Li vie  ?  " 

Olivia,  with  a  toss  of  her  frizzled  head :  "  I  don't  think  I 
should  be  able  to  go.  'Patry  can,  if  she's  a  mind  to." 

Cleopatra,  hiding  her  naked  feet  under  her  chair  :  "  I've 
no  disposition,  thank  you,  Miss  Olivia  !  'Tildy  may,  if  she 
likes." 

Matilda,  simpering :  "  I  haven't  'tended  two  terms  at 
Kiltney  jest  to  learn  that  housework  is  my  sphere  ! " 

Hector,  retreating :  "  Certainly  not  !  You  will  pardon 
my  presumption.  Bridget  does  the  housework,  and  the 
most  my  mother  wants  is  a  companion  " 

Olivia,  condescending:  "Oh,  if  that  is  the  case" 

Cleopatra,  interrupting  her  :  "  You  ain't  going  to  change 
your  mind,  I  hope,  jest  as  I've  concluded  to  go." 

Matilda  :  "  You  both  refused  once  ;  and  now  if  anybody 
goes  I  think  it  ought  to  be  me,  —  hadn't  it,  ma  ?  " 

Mrs.  Fosdick :  "  'Tildy  is  very  accomplished,  and  if  it's 
a  companion  your  mother  wants  " 

Matilda,  unpinning  her  curl-papers :   "  'Twon't  take   me 


98  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

ten  minutes  to  git  ready  !  Why  can't  you  help  me 
'Patry  ?  " 

Cleopatra,  independently,  with  several  toes  peeping  from 
under  her  dress  :  "  I'm  nobody's  waiter,  I'd  have  you  know, 
miss  ! " 

Matilda  :  "  I  don't  care  ;  'Livie  will ! " 

Olivia  mockingly  :   "  I  don't  care ;  'Livie  won't !  " 

Hector,  with  exemplary  self-denial :  "  Excuse  me,  Miss 
Matilda,  but  I  am  really  afraid  you  are  making  too  great  a 
sacrifice  of  feeling,  and  I  am  unwilling  to  remove  you  out 
of  your  sphere." 

He  took  leave  politely.  'Tildy  looked  blank,  'Patry 
chuckled,  'Livie  tossed  her  frizzled  head  again ;  and  during 
the  remainder  of  the  forenoon  the  three  poor  and  proud 
sisters  quarrelled  sharply  about  the  nice  little  apple  of  dis 
cord  which  had  been  dropped  among  them,  and  snatched 
away  again  before  either  could  seize  it. 

Diverted  by  the  adventure,  Hector  returned  to  the  other 
house.  He  was  met  by  old  Mrs. Wing  at  the  gate. 

"  I  didn't  much  think  you'd  git  one  on  'em,"  said  she ; 
"for  they  are  pesky  proud  critturs,  always  for  everlastin' 
settin'  up  for  ladies  ! " 

"  Whose  horse  is  that  under  the  shed  ?  "  asked  Hector. 

"  It's  Mr.  Rukely's ;  he  called  at  your  father's  jest  after 
you  left,  and  follered  right  along  up  the  hill." 

"  Mr.  Kukely  ?  "  Hector  scratched  his  ear.  "  Mr.  Kukely ! 
Are  he  and  Bertha  pretty  good  friends  ?  " 

"Dear  me!"  whispered  the  old  lady,  all  smiles;  "didn't 
you  know  it  ?  They're  engaged.  They're  in  the  parlor 
now." 

"  Phew-ew ! "  whistled  Hector.  "  But  who  is  that  in 
your  room  ?  " 

"  It's  the  gal  't  you  seen  lyin'  on  the  lounge.  An'  I  was 
goin'  to  tell  ye,  if  your  mother  wants  a  nice,  perty  body  to 
wait  on  her,  she  can't  do  better,  I  think,  than  to  take 
her.  She  turns  out  to  be  a  gal  that's  ben  livin'  to  Mr. 


THE  DUNBURYS  99 

Jackwood's.  And  she  has  told  me  she  would  like  a 
place.'7 

"  I  wonder  if  she's  the  person  father  saw  there  last  even 
ing  ! "  exclaimed  Hector. 

He  paused  at  the  door,  struck  with  sudden  surprise. 
Notwithstanding  his  father's  favorable  report  of  Char 
lotte,  he  was  altogether  unprepared  to  see  so  peculiar 
and  striking  a  countenance,  pale  with  subdued  passion  and 
spiritual  beauty. 

She  did  not  venture  to  return  his  earnest  gaze.  But  some 
thing  in  the  tones  of  his  voice  startled  her.  It  seemed  to 
reopen  suddenly,  at  her  very  feet,  the  dizzy  gulf  from 
which  she  had  fled.  She  stole  an  anxious  glance  at  his 
face ;  instantly  the  blood  rushed  suffocatingly  upon  her 
heart,  and  the  room  grew  misty. 

"  You  are  so  tired,  poor  child  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Wing.  "  Le' 
me  give  you  a  little  currant  wine." 

Hector,  with  instinctive  delicacy  of  feeling,  had  walked 
to  the  open  door,  and  now  stood  gazing  out  upon  the  fair 
mountain  scenery.  This  was  a  relief  to  Charlotte;  she 
made  a  strong  effort  to  control  herself,  and  appear  calm ; 
yet  when  he  turned  again,  her  spirit  was  weak  and  tremu 
lous,  as  a  reed  bending  under  the  weight  of  a  bird. 

Hector,  however,  betrayed  no  sign  of  recognition.  Hop 
ing,  but  trembling  still,  Charlotte  breathed  an  inward 
prayer  that  the  old  lady's  proposal  in  her  favor  might 
be  at  once  rejected.  Hector  was  but  too  eager  to  accept  it. 
She  endeavored  falteringly  to  excuse  herself;  but  he  would 
not  consent  to  release  her,  and,  after  what  she  had  said  to 
Mrs.  Wing,  she  saw  no  way  left  but  to  accompany  him. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  parlor,  the  conscientious  Bertha  con 
fessed  herself,  in  deep  contrition  of  heart,  to  her  indulgent 
friend. 

Mr.  "Rukoly  was  somewhat  disturbed.  But  he  was  none 
of  your  wild  and  capricious  lovers.  His  passion  lay  tamely 
at  the  feet  of  his  understanding,  like  an  obedient  spaniel, 


100  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

that  never  snapped  or  snarled.  He  pressed  Bertha  in  his 
arms,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  affianced  though 
they  were,  kissed  her  —  on  the  forehead. 

A  cold  revulsion  of  feeling  made  the  unhappy  girl  shud 
der  in  his  embrace.  Oh,  how  wicked  she  thought  herself, 
because  her  heart  was  stronger  than  her  will !  But  down 
she  crushed  that  heart  again,  resolved  anew  to  love  what 
her  judgment  pronounced  worthy. 

"  It  is  a  great  relief,"  she  said,  "  to  have  told  you  this  ; 
and  you  are  so  kind !  I  thought  it  would  separate  us." 

"'No,  Bertha,"  repeated  the  other ;  "  it  makes  me  love 
you  the  more.  I  respect  your  truth.  You  have  fled  from 
temptation ;  you  have  shut  your  eyes  and  your  ears  against 
it ;  it  is  the  only  way." 

"  The  worst  is  passed,"  she  said.  "  I  conquered  my  love 
for  him  once ;  why  it  returned  upon  me  with  such  power  I 
cannot  tell ;  but  I  have  shut  it  out  again,  and  forever." 

She  walked  mechanically  to  the  window.  Hector  was 
helping  Charlotte  into  the  buggy.  He  seemed  to  hold  her 
hand  with  a  lingering  pressure  ;  his  features  beamed  with 
satisfaction  ;  he  looked  the  very  picture  of  manly  grace. 
A  quick,  sharp  pain  shot  through  Bertha's  heart  as  she 
gazed;  and  she  turned  away,  stifling  a  cry,  and  shutting 
out  the  sight  with  her  hands. 


DOWN   THE  MOUNTAIN  101 


VIII 
DOWN    THE    MOUNTAIN 

THE  morning  continued  fine.  The  rays  of  the  sun  beat 
down  hotly ;  but  cool  breezes  played  upon  the  mountain 
side,  shaking  the  green  foliage  of  the  woods,  dancing  over 
the  meadows,  and  tossing  the  fields  of  grain  into  fantastic 
waves. 

A  prospect  of  Alpine  loveliness  opened  before  Hector 
and  Charlotte,  as  they  emerged  from  a  shady  dingle  not 
far  from  Mr.  Wing's  house.  The  road  wound  along  the 
brow  of  a  lofty  spur,  from  which  the  valley,  out-spread  be 
low,  looked  like  a  vast  and  magnificent  colored  map.  The 
miniature  fences,  the  spotted  farms,  the  winding  creek,  the 
houses  so  distant  and  so  small,  formed  a  picture  of  exceed 
ing  beauty.  Still  and  grand  rose  the  woody  mountains 
beyond,  the  forests  on  their  backs  appearing  like  thick 
growths  of  weeds  a  mower  might  cut  with  his  scythe. 
Here  and  there,  amid  clearings,  along  a  dark  chasm  in  the 
hills,  gleamed  the  foam  and  silver  of  Wild  Kiver,  rushing 
to  the  plain. 

Hector  pointed  out  to  his  companion  his  father's  house, 
Mr.  Jack  wood's,  and  two  or  three  little  villages  nestled  in 
green  spots  up  and  down  the  creek.  Charlotte,  on  her  part, 
feared  to  speak,  lest  her  voice  should  betray  what  he  had 
failed  to  discover  in  her  face ;  and  she  feared  to  look 
towards  him,  lest  something  in  her  expression,  not  before 
revealed,  should  give  form  to  any  vague  shadow  of  recogni 
tion  that  might  be  flitting  through  his  mind.  Thus  she  was 
chiding  and  torturing  herself  for  having  consented  to  accom- 


102  ZfZGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


ealafitrrJphe  occurred  which  in  a  moment 
swept  away  every  barrier  of  restraint  that  divided  them. 

Mr.  Dunbury  kept  a  farm-boy  named  Cornelius  Bough- 
ton.  His  familiar  appellation  was  Corny.  He  was  seven 
teen  years  of  age,  and  was  distinguished  for  a  meditative 
disposition,  and  a  stoical  indifference  to  the  ordinary  cares 
of  life  ;  qualities  which  superficial  observers  were  apt  in 
discriminately  to  term  obtuseness  and  stupidity.  Corny 
had  that  morning  harnessed  the  horse  for  Hector,  and 
placed  him  before  the  buggy.  He  had  also  discovered  that 
the  spring  which  secured  the  eye  of  one  of  the  traces  in  its 
hook  was  loose  (it  was  a  harness  of  antique  fashion),  and 
might  drop  off.  It  did  not,  however,  occur  to  him  that  a 
few  seasonable  strokes  of  the  hammer  might  be  of  service 
in  preventing  the  dislocation  of  necks  ;  nor  did  he  mention 
the  circumstance  to  Hector. 

Hector,  accordingly,  knew  nothing  of  the  danger  until, 
as  he  was  driving  down  a  gentle  slope,  —  crossing  a  bar  of 
gravel  thrown  diagonally  across  the  road  for  the  purpose 
of  shedding  off  the  water  in  times  of  heavy  rains,  —  he 
heard  something  rattle  on  the  ground.  It  was  the  shafts, 
which  had  slid  out  of  their  stays,  and  fallen  down,  in  con 
sequence  of  the  unhooking  of  that  fatal  trace.  The  horse 
jumped  ;  one  trace  still  held  ;  the  buggy  was  brought  vio 
lently  against  his  gambrels  ;  a  kick  —  a  spring  —  and  in  an 
instant  of  time  the  frightened  brute  was  making  wild, 
irregular  leaps  down  the  declivity. 

Hector  did  not  lose  his  presence  of  mind  ;  yet  clear 
headed,  resolute,  vigilant  as  he  was,  he  could  devise  no 
way  of  averting  a  catastrophe.  If  he  held  hard  on  the 
reins,  he  but  drew  the  vehicle  more  closely  upon  the  horse's 
heels  ;  and  to  drive  into  the  bank  with  the  shafts  on  the 
ground,  would  have  been  to  hasten  disaster.  He  might, 
possibly,  at  the  outset,  have  jumped  out,  and,  by  the  exer 
cise  of  superior  agility,  stopped  both  horse  and  wagon  ;  but 
Charlotte  clung  to  his  arm,  and  held  him  fast. 


DOWN  THE  MOUNTAIN  103 

Hector  had  no  fear  for  himself ;  his  chief  care  was  for 
his  companion.  But  for  the  tight  clasp  on  his  arm,  he 
would  have  known  nothing  of  the  terror  that  froze  her 
heart.  She  did  not  scream,  nor  speak  one  word,  from  first 
to  last ;  and  when,  in  s,  clear,  firm  voice,  he  told  her  what 
to  do,  it  seemed  the  only  way  and  the  right  way,  and  she 
obeyed  at  once. 

The  feat  was  difficult  and  dangerous.  Hector  could  not 
assist  her;  it  required  all  his  skill  to  manage  the  horse, 
and  keep  the  shafts  in  the  track.  Not  until  he  had  given 
her  ample  time  to  save  herself  did  he  venture  to  look 
around.  She  had  climbed  over  the  seat,  and  dropped  down 
behind  ;  and  he  had  a  momentary  glimpse  of  her  lying 
with  her  face  in  the  road,  quite  still,  as  she  had  fallen. 

All  this  happened  in  much  less  than  a  minute's  time 
from  the  dropping  of  the  shafts.  Hector  was  now  travel 
ling  at  a  speed  that  could  not  last  long.  He  approached  a 
curve  in  the  road,  and  the  track,  which  had  offered  little 
impediment  to  the  shafts  thus  far,  grew  rough  and  stony. 
The  buggy  began  to  bound  and  reel ;  and,  expecting  mo 
mently  to  go  over,  he  prepared  to  throw  the  reins  clear  of 
everything,  and  fall  in  as  compact  a  shape  as  possible, 
when  the  crisis  should  arrive. 

Suddenly,  looking  before  to  calculate  his  ground,  he  saw 
a  man,  scarce  five  rods  distant,  driving  lazily  up  the  moun 
tain  in  a  farm-wagon,  drawn  by  a  bony  pair  of  horses.  He 
seemed  asleep ;  his  head  was  sunk  upon  his  breast,  the 
reins  hung  loosely  in  his  hands.  Hector  rose  up,  bare 
headed,  his  hair  flying,  and  shouted  the  alarm.  To  the 
man,  who  started  bewildered  from  his  nap,  and  saw  swift 
ruin  dashing  down  upon  him  in  such  a  form,  he  looked 
more  like  a  fiend  than  anything  human.  It  was  too  late 
for  him  to  clear  the  track,  but,  with  the  instinct  of  terror, 
he  screamed  and  shook  his  reins  wildly  up  and  down,  and 
finally  threw  his  hat  to  turn  aside  the  danger.  The  fran 
tic  animal  sheered  to  the  bank ;  the  shafts  struck,  and  flew 


104  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

to  splinters ;  and  the  buggy,  hurled  into  the  air,  doubled 
together  like  pasteboard,  and  came  down  with  a  crash,  a 
mass  of  fragments,  throwing  up  soil  and  turf  into  the  very 
face  of  the  spectator. 

The  horse  had  cleared  himself  at  a  spring;  but  the 
driver  lay  among  the  ruins.  How  still  everything  was  ! 
The  man  sat  shivering  in  his  wagon,  and  gazing  with  dumb 
amazement  at  the  wreck,  when  he  saw  something  move. 
Over  went  the  broken  seat,  and  up  got  Hector  from  under  it. 

He  was  a  frightful-looking  object,  covered  from  head  to 
foot  with  dirt,  his  hair  all  over  his  face,  and  one  sleeve 
of  his  coat  rent  away  from  the  shoulder.  At  first  he  looked 
vacantly  around,  knowing  not  at  all  where  he  was  or  what 
had  happened ;  but  presently  putting  his  hair  from  his 
eyes,  he  stared  at  the  heap  that  had  been  a  buggy,  and 
began  to  remember. 

"  My  —  everlasting ! "  said  the  ghastly  countryman,  with 
out  stirring  from  his  wagon,  "  I  never  thought  o'  seein'  you 
git  up  agin,  I  vow  ! " 

"  I'm  not  hurt ! "  cried  Hector,  still  a  little  wild. 
"  Where  is  she  ?  "  meaning  Charlotte. 

"  She's  over  the  crick  by  this  time !  Lightning  !  how 
she  sprung !  She  jest  grazed  my  wheels !  Lucky  you 
smashed  up  jest  as  you  did,  or  you'd  'a  'tore  me  to  flinders. 
What  a  narrer  'scape  I  had  !  " 

Hector  hastened  up  the  road  to  find  Charlotte.  The 
man  sat  a  few  minutes  longer  in  the  wagon,  contemplating 
the  catastrophe  and  his  own  "  narrer  'scape,"  when  the 
unaccountable  whim  took  him  to  get  out.  He  walked 
around  the  wreck,  touched  it  with  his  foot,  lifted  a  cushion 
with  his  shaking  hand,  dropped  it,  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  said,  "  My  jingoes  !  "  with  a  depth  of  expression  which 
seemed  to  afford  him  great  relief. 

Stunned  by  the  fall,  Charlotte  lay  for  some  seconds  in 
the  road  ;  then  got  upon  her  feet  and  began  to  walk  very 
fast  up  the  hill,  in  pursuit  of  Hector's  hat.  Reflecting 


DOWN   THE  MOUNTAIN  105 

suddenly  that  she  ought  rather  to  look  after  the  head  it 
belonged  to,  she  turned,  and,  now  fully  awake,  ran  in  great 
trepidation  to  learn  what  had  become  of  Hector.  She 
met  him  hastening  up  the  road. 

"  You  are  hurt !  "  she  cried  out  at  sight  of  him. 

"  Not  a  bit ! "  Hector  declared  stoutly.  "  I  fell  like 
a  football,  and  up  again  at  a  bound !  " 

"  But  your  face  is  covered  with  blood  !  " 

"Indeed  ?  I've  been  wiping  my  mouth  for  something  — 
I  didn't  know  what !  " 

Charlotte  stanched  the  blood  with  her  handkerchief. 

"  You're  a  brave  girl !  It  is  worth  a  kingdom  to  see  you 
on  your  feet  again  !  There,  that  will  do,  —  thank  you  !  " 

"  Your  lip  is  cut  ! " 

"  That's  nothing,  if  you  are  safe.  I  tell  you,"  said 
Hector,  "  after  running  such  a  rig,  it's  exhilarating  to 
think  there's  no  damage  done  which  money  and  a  little 
court-plaster  won't  repair  ! " 

"  Where  is  your  buggy  ?  " 

"  It  lies  just  below  here,  around  those  bushes.  It  looks 
like  an  Irishman's  shanty  run  into  by  a  locomotive." 

"  And  the  horse  ?  " 

"  Gone  down  the  mountain  !  Poor  fellow  !  I  hope  he 
won't  kill  himself  !  But  see,  the  people  in  that  house  are 
staring  at  us.  How  some  people  will  stare,  and  keep  at 
a  safe  distance,  when  others  are  in  trouble  !  " 

"  But  they  look  as  if  they  would  be  glad  to  help  us," 
said  Charlotte.  "  They  can  at  least  give  us  brushes,  water, 
and  towels." 

The  people  in  question  were  poor  women,  very  much 
frightened,  but  willing  enough  to  lend  their  help  when 
they  knew  what  to  do.  Hector  washed  his  hands  and  face 
under  their  porch,  combed  his  hair,  and  brushed  his  clothes, 
while  one  of  them  pinned  up  his  sleeve  and  prepared  a 
plaster  for  his  lip.  Then,  leaving  Charlotte  in  their  care, 
he  returned  to  the  wreck. 


106  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  I  swanny ! "  said  the  countryman,  rubbing  his  hands, 
"  I  never  see  anything  chawed  up  like  that  'ere  buggy. 
Fills,  box,  seat  —  everything  smashed  !  The  wheels,  I 
guess,  are  sound,  and  that's  all." 

"  And  our  necks,"  suggested  Hector. 

"  Didn't  I  have  a  narrer  'scape  ?  I  can't  help  thinkin' 
on't."  And  the  man  walked  about  the  wreck  again,  chuck 
ling  nervously  and  looking  very  pale. 

"  Isn't  your  name  Enos  Crumlett  ?  " 

"  That's  my  name,  ya-a-s ! "  Mr.  Crumlett  stared. 
"  Wai !  I  didn't  know  ye  before  !  You  begin  to  look  like, 
washed  up  !  How  de  dew?  When  j'e  come  to  town?" 

Answering  these  questions  briefly,  Hector  proposed  that 
Mr.  Crumlett  should  carry  him  home. 

"  I  declare,"  said  that  individual  regretfully,  "I  don't  see 
how  I  can,  any  way  in  the  world  !  I'm  in  a  desprit  hurry  ! " 

"  Oh,"  replied  Hector  with  a  quiet  smile,  "  you  are  in  a 
hurry  ?  But  I  should  expect,  of  course,  to  pay  you  for 
your  trouble." 

Mr.  Crumlett,  on  reflection :  "  Wai,  I  d'  know  —  an  old 
acquaintance,  so;  mabby  I  might." 

Accordingly  Mr.  Crumlett  took  on  board  the  buggv- 
cushions,  with  a  few  other  fragments  of  the  wreck ; 
assisted  his  "old  acquaintance"  to  make  a  compact  heap 
of  the  remainder  on  the  roadside;  and  finally,  with  Hec 
tor  and  Charlotte  as  passengers,  turned  his  horses'  heads 
down  the  mountain. 

Mr.  Crumlett,  as  it  proved,  not  only  had  time  to  carry 
them  to  their  destination,  but  to  drive  tediously  slow. 
Gloating  over  the  accident,  and  chuckling  repeatedly  at  his 
own  "  narrer  'scape,"  he  seemed  entirely  to  have  forgotten 
that  he  was  in  a  hurry.  Occasionally,  at  Hector's  instiga 
tion,  he  flourished  his  whip,  and  clucked  a  little  to  his 
horses ;  but  those  grave  animals  were  not  to  be  urged  out 
of  their  comfortable  pace  by  any  such  gentle  means.  Mean 
while,  anxious  to  learn  the  fate  of  his  own  horse,  Hector 


DOWN   THE  MOUNTAIN  107 

inquired  for  him  on  the  way.  He  had  been  seen  by 
several  persons,  who  described  him  as  going  very  fast, 
with  the  reins  streaming  from  his  back,  and  "one  tug  whip 
ping  his  side  to  make  him  go  faster."  But  presently  there 
came  a  pedler,  who  had  passed  by  Mr.  Dunbury's  house. 

"  I  haven't  seen  any  horse  running,"  said  the  itinerant 
tradesman ;  "  but  I  saw  a  woman  unharnessing  a  lathery 
horse  in  a  yard  back  here." 

Hector's  spirits  rose.  The  woman  was  Bridget,  and  the 
horse  was  the  runaway. 

"  Blessed  pedler/'  said  he  in  his  heart,  "  go  thy  way, 
and  be  happy  !  Drive  on,  Enos  !  " 

Mr.  Crumlett  cracked  his  whip  and  clucked  again,  but  to 
little  purpose.  In  the  course  of  time,  however,  the  party 
came  in  sight  of  Mr.  Dunbury's  house.  Bridget  stood  in 
the  road,  her  broad  red  face  turned  with  an  expression  of 
wonder  towards  Mr.  Crumlett's  establishment.  Hector 
swung  his  hat. 

"  It's  him  !  "  screamed  Bridget,  dancing  and  clapping  her 
hands.  "Mrs.  Dunbury !  it's  him,  with  a  good  head  yit 
to  wear  a  hat  on  !  " 

Then  straightway  out  ran  Mrs.  Dunbury,  her  face  white 
and  wild,  hair  dishevelled,  cape  falling  from  her  shoulders, 
and  threw  herself  upon  Hector's  neck,  as  he  jumped  from 
the  wagon.  A  few  stifled  words,  a  few  choking  sobs  and 
tears,  and,  her  excited  strength  relaxing,  she  sank  fainting 
in  his  arms. 

With  Charlotte's  ready  assistance  Hector  bore  her  into 
the  house.  Presently  her  eyes  opened  languidly,  and  her 
grateful  look  wandered  from  Hector  to  his  companion. 

Danger,  like  death,  is  a  leveller.  It  brings  king  and 
beggar  upon  the  same  human  ground.  From  the  moment 
of  peril,  when  Hector  felt  Charlotte's  womanly  clasp  upon 
his  arm,  they  had  ceased  to  be  strangers ;  and,  still  glowing 
with  the  generous  heat  with  which  her  sympathy  inspired 
him,  he  introduced  her  to  his  mother.  The  latter  extended 


108  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

her  feeble  hand,  with  a  smile  of  welcome.  A  tender  chord 
was  touched  in  Charlotte's  breast,  and  she  knelt  humble 
and  happy  beside  the  invalid's  lounge. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  child ! "  said  Mrs.  Dunbury  fervently. 

Hector  inquired  for  his  father. 

"I  blowed  the  harn  fur  'im,"  cried  Bridget,  "but  he 
didn't  coom  yet !  It's  over  the  creek  I'll  go  an'  cahl  'im  !  " 

She  ran  out,  and  in  the  yard  met  Mr.  Dunbury,  who 
presently  entered,  with  Corny  at  his  heels.  He  was  an  ex 
citable  and  impetuous  man,  and  the  girl  had  told  him  just 
enough  of  the  accident  to  make  him  fume.  Hector  hastened 
to  explain. 

"  I  might  told  ye  how  'twould  be ! "  said  Corny,  notch 
ing  a  stick  with  his  knife. 

Mr.  Dunbury  gruffly  :  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Corny,  drawling  his  words  :  "  Wai,  the  spring  was  loose 
that  held  the  tug  in  —  and  I  know'd  't  would  be  all  the 
time  unhookin'  if  ye  didn't  look  out." 

Mr.  Dunbury :  "  Did  you  know  no  better  than  to  leave 
such  a  trap  for  breaking  people's  necks  ?  " 

Corny,  phlegmatic  :  "  'Twa'n't  my  trap  !  You  told  me  to 
harness  Jerry  to  the  buggy." 

Hector  :  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  the  spring  was  loose  ?  " 

Corny  :   « 'Coz  I  didn't  think  on't,  I  s'pose." 

Bridget :  "That's  jist  one  o'  Carny's  tricks!  He'd  know 
nothin'  at  ahl  if  'twa'n't  knocked  out  of  'im,"  punching  him 
with  the  broom.  "  Out  o'  the  house  wid  yer  whittlin's,  noo  ! " 

Corny  pugnaciously  :  "  Come,  stop !  " 

Mr.  Dunbury:  "What  are  you  here  for?  Why  don't 
you  go  and  take  care  of  that  horse  ?  " 

Corny  :  «  You  didn't  tell  me  to !  " 

Mr.  Dunbury,  recognizing  Charlotte,  uttered  a  sort  of  half- 
apology,  and  welcomed  her  with  high  good-breeding.  But 
a  consciousness  of  being  somewhat  carelessly  attired  ap 
peared  to  trouble  him  just  at  this  time ;  and,  the  moment 
her  attention  was  withdrawn,  he  took  occasion  to  pull  up 


DOTr.V   THE  MOUNTAIN  109 

his  limp  collar,  and  smooth  down  his  rumpled  shirt  under 
the  worn  lapels  of  his  faded  plush  waistcoat. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  the  invalid,  clinging  to 
Hector's  hand. 

"  I  am  reminded  that  I  have  left  our  friend  Crumlett 
waiting  —  and  he  is  in  a  terrible  hurry  !  " 

"  But  you  must  not  let  him  go  till  after  dinner.  How 
kind  it  was  in  him  to  bring  you  down !  '' 

Hector  found  Mr.  Crumlett  sitting  patiently  in  his 
wagon,  whipping  the  gate-post. 

"  How  much  do  I  owe  you  for  your  trouble,  Enos  ?  " 

«  ^Val  —  I  d'n'  know  —  guess  fifty  cents  '11  be  'bout 
right  —  won't  it,  hey  ?  '' 

Hector  paid  him,  and  asked  if  he  would  stay  to  dinner. 

"  Wai,  —  it's  unexpected,  naow,"  replied  Mr.  Crumlett, 
pocketing  the  change  ;  <•  like  enough  I  will !  You  can  give 
my  team  a  bite.  I  s'pose  ?  " 

"  Put  your  horses  in  the  barn,  and  cut  as  much  grass  for 
them  as  you  choose."  said  Hector.  ki  There's  the  barn ; 
there's  the  grass,  and  there's  the  scythe  hanging  in  the 
apple-tree.  You  have  plenty  of  time ;  Bridget's  dinner 
will  be  ready  in  half  an  hour." 

'•  Wai,  I  don't  mind  waitin'  —  only  git  the  team  to 
chawin'  on  to  suthin'  !  Guess  I'll  back  'em  round  a  little, 
and  feed  'em  here  in  the  shade,  — may  as  well." 

Mr.  Crumlett  accordingly  stayed  to  dinner;  ate  prodi 
giously  ;  told  all  about  the  way  that  buggy  went  to  pieces ; 
recurred  some  twenty  times  to  his  own  "  narrer  'scape ; " 
and,  on  going  away,  asked  permission  to  throw  that  "  little 
han'f ul  o'  grass  "  into  his  wagon  —  having  cut  considerably 
more  than  his  team  had  had  time  to  eat.  The  permission 
granted,  he  set  out,  well  satisfied  with  his  fortunes  gener 
ally,  and  his  dinner  in  particular,  and  drove  leisurely  up 
the  mountain,  rehearsing  to  himself  a  new  and  more  start 
ling  version  of  his  adventures,  designed  to  astonish  his 
friends  at  home. 


110  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


IX 

HECTOR    AND    CHARLOTTE 

THE  light  of  a  new  morning  has  dawned  upon  Charlotte's 
life.  A  few  clouds  of  doubt  and  fear  still  chase  each  other 
across  her  sky  ;  but  the  thick  darkness  is  gone,  and  the 
young  day  is  fresh  and  calm,  and  full  of  promise. 

Not  only  has  the  catastrophe  of  the  buggy  served  to 
throw  open  at  once  a  wide  door  of  sympathy  between  her 
and  her  new  friends,  but  it  furnishes  a  fruitful  and  exhila 
rating  theme  for  familiar  discussion.  Hector  makes  epi 
grams  upon  a  certain  leaden-hued  contusion  under  Char 
lotte's  eye;  upon  his  own  lameness,  and  the  cut  in  his  lip; 
and  upon  other  pleasing  results  of  the  disaster.  Then,  to 
enliven  a  dull  company  of  evening  visitors  who  have 
called  in  honor  of  his  return  to  Huntersford,  he  delivers  an 
entertaining  and  instructive  lecture  on  the  subject,  accom 
panied  with  music  by  his  mother,  and  illustrated  by  origi 
nal  pen-and-ink  sketches.  The  first  of  these  represents 
"  Corny  whittling ;  "  received  with  roars  of  laughter.  Next, 
"  Corny  brings  Jerry  to  the  door."  Then  various  stages  of 
the  catastrophe  are  portrayed,  until  "  Mr.  Crumlett "  is  in 
troduced  to  the  audience.  At  this  point  Mr.  Dunbury, 
who  has  preserved  his  gravity  all  along,  forgets  his  dig 
nity,  and  shakes  with  democratic  fun.  Mrs.  Dunbury  joins 
in  the  general  merriment,  —  more  quietly  than  any  of  the 
rest ;  but  her  pride  in  Hector  makes  her  very  happy. 
Charlotte's  soft  eyes  glisten  ;  and  Phrebe  Jackwood,  throw 
ing  herself  upon  her  friend's  shoulder  in  a  paroxysm  of 
mirth,  declares  that  she  "  shall  die  !  " 


HECTOR  AND   CHARLOTTE  111 

Hector  limps  three  weeks  with  his  bruises ;  and  Char 
lotte  carries  the  dark-colored  mark  under  her  eye  for 
nearly  the  same  length  of  time.  They  condole  with  each 
other,  and  laugh  at  each  other,  until  one  would  judge  theirs 
to  be  a  friendship  of  years'  standing. 

The  invalid's  health  gradually  improved.  Hector  was  a 
good  physician,  Charlotte  a  sympathetic  companion  and 
nurse.  Mrs.  Dunbury  recovered  her  appetite,  and  soon  her 
greatest  anxiety  wras  to  have  something  delicate  and  nice 
for  dinner.  One  morning  she  particularly  desired  fish,  and 
asked  Hector  to  go  down  into  the  meadow  and  catch  a 
famous  pickerel  that  had  lately  been  seen  in  a  deep  pool  of 
the  creek. 

"  I  don't  know,  mamma.  The  last  time  I  went  a-fishing, 
I  hooked  a  cruel  hook  through  the  backs  of  little  fish,  and 
let  them  swim  around  in  the  water,  to  bait  their  big  broth 
ers  who  came  to  eat  them.  In  the  excitement  of  the  sport, 
—  I  believe  men  call  it  sport,  —  I  had  not  one  merciful 
thought  to  bestow  upon  the  fishes.  However,  I'm  going 
out  to  show  the  men  how  to  mow  this  forenoon ;  and,  if  I 
think  of  it,  I  will  catch  your  pickerel." 

At  nine  o'clock  Mrs.  Dunbury  looked  out  of  her  window, 
and  saw  the  mowers  in  the  meadow,  with  Hector  at  their 
head,  cutting  into  the  tall  grass  with  uniform  strokes,  and 
laying  the  swaths  in  even  lines  behind  them. 

"  He  has  quite  forgotten  the  pickerel,"  she  said  to  Char 
lotte.  "  If  you  should  go  to  the  meadow,  and  carry  him 
his  fishing-pole,  I  am  sure  he  would  ask  no  better  excuse  to 
throw  down  that  dreadful  scythe." 

Charlotte  set  out  with  a  light  heart  to  do  the  errand, 
imagining  herself  a  native-born  country-girl,  rustic,  happy, 
and  free  from  care,  and  singing  snatches  of  merry  songs  as 
she  went. 

She  crossed  the  rotting  timbers  of  the  bridge,  and  ap 
proached  the  mowers  under  cover  of  the  alders  that  grew 
around  a  bend  in  the  stream.  Birds  fluttered  and  chattered 


112  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

in  the  bushes  ;  the  waters  rippled  and  gleamed,  and  leaped 
with  low,  gurgling  laughter  over  their  pebbly  bed ;  and  the 
summer  wind  swept  gently  across  the  grass,  playing  among 
the  leaves,  and  blowing  with  grateful  coolness  on  her 
brow  and  in  her  hair.  She  felt  herself  a  part  of  all  that 
happy  life ;  and  that  birds  and  stream  and  breeze,  and  even 
the  soft  haze  that  brooded  over  the  valley,  and  lay  in 
translucent  purple  banks  all  around  upon  the  mountain 
heights,  sympathized  in  the  pure  joy  that  overflowed  her 
heart. 

Charlotte  trod  quickly  along  the  shaven  turf,  until  she 
could  see  the  mowers  carrying  back  their  scythes  along  the 
level  swaths.  Hector  marched  at  their  head,  singing  a 
negro  melody.  Corny  brought  up  the  rear,  whittling  his 
snath  with  a  jackknife.  Mr.  Dunbury  and  two  day-laborers 
formed  the  body  of  the  force.  Not  far  off  was  Bridget, 
shaking  out  the  new-mown  grass  with  a  fork,  tossing  it 
wildly  about  her  ears,  or  flinging  it  in  great  wads,  here  and 
there,  over  the  meadow. 

Arrived  at  the  edge  of  the  field,  the  men  rested  their 
scythes  upon  the  ground,  and  began  to  whet  them,  having 
first  wiped  them  with  wisps  of  grass.  The  cheerful  ring  of 
the  stone  upon  the  metal  beat  a  measured  accompaniment 
to  Hector's  singing, — only  Corny  striking  occasionally  a 
little  out  of  time.  Charlotte  paused  involuntarily.  What 
trouble  came  up  out  of  the  past,  at  that  happy  hour,  to 
tyrannize  over  her  spirit  ?  She  stood  hesitating  in  the 
meadow,  when  Hector  ceased  singing,  and  called  out  to  her 
with  a  cheery  welcome,  as  he  threw  down  his  scythe. 

"  Le'  me  go  'n  ketch  the  pick'ril,  if  you  do'  wanter," 
drawled  Corny. 

Hector :  "  Would  you  quite  as  lief  do  that  as  mow  ?  " 

Corny  earnestly  :  "  I  drutker  !  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it.  How  refreshing  it  is  to  hear  you 
speak  the  truth  !  " 

And   Hector  walked   off  with  the   fishing-pole,  leaving 


HECTOR  AND   CHARLOTTE  113 

Corny  to  stare  at  him,  with  perplexed  and  disappointed 
looks,  over  his  scythe. 

"You  shall  go  with  me,  Charlotte."  Hector  stepped  to 
the  young  girl's  side,  as  she  was  returning  towards  the 
stream.  "  The  fields  are  so  sweet  and  beautiful  to-day, 
how  can  you  shut  yourself  up  in  the  house  ?  " 

Only  a  happy  look  in  her  large,  soft  eyes  answered  him. 
She  remained  pensive  and  silent  as  was  her  wont,  while 
her  presence  stimulated  his  spirits. 

Not  venturing  to  talk  sentiment  to  her,  he  talked  non 
sense. 

"  Your  pickerel,"  he  said,  "is  the  very  attorney  of  fishes. 
He  locates  his  office  in  some  eligible  spot,  often  among  the 
brown  river-grass,  at  the  mouth  of  some  little  brook ;  and 
I  have  no  doubt  but  if  we  understood  the  fishes'  language, 
or  rather  their  signs,  we  should  be  able  to  read  over  his 
door,  '  PIKE  PICKEREL,  ATTORNEY  AXD  COUNSELLOR  AT 
LAW.'  There  he  awaits  his  clients,  who,  never  suspect 
ing  what  a  scaly  fellow  he  is,  run  into  the  very  jaws 
of  danger,  and  are  taken  in  by  him  before  they  know  it. 
Some  of  the  little  brook  people  are  too  cunning  and  quick 
even  for  his  sharp  practice,  and  escape  in  spite  of  his 
teeth ;  but  generally,  when  he  darts  into  a  school,  he  seizes 
at  least  one  out  of  it,  and,  to  make  a  long  tail  short,  finishes 
him  at  a  bite.  Those  that  get  away  may  be  called  flying- 
fishes,  while  those  that  are  taken  become  swallows.  And 
so  our  lawyer  flourishes,  until  his  line  of  business  is  in 
terrupted  by  a  line  of  a  different  nature,  and  some  aven 
ging  power,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  puts  a  stop  to  his  proceed 
ings  with  an  attachment,  —  such  as  I  am  about  to  try  in  the 
case  of  our  neighbor  under  the  bushes  here." 

Hector  rattled  on  in  this  way,  as  the)'  walked  along  by 
the  willows  and  crossed  the  bridge  together.  On  the  other 
bank  of  the  creek  they  followed  the  old  wagon  track  up 
stream,  until  they  arrived  at  the  confluence  of  a  brook  that 
came  down  from  the  eastern  hills.  Here,  in  a  quiet  pool, 


114  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

overhung  with  bushes,  the  attorney  of  fishes  was  found. 
Hector's  eyes  sparkled,  as  he  arranged  a  snare. 

"  A  royal  pickerel,  upon  my  word !  Not  so  large  as  a 
shark,  but  he'll  do.  Look,  Charlotte,  how  neatly  and  com 
fortably  I  slip  the  noose  " 

"  I  see  ! "  laughed  Charlotte,  as  the  fish  deliberately  took 
his  nose  out  of  the  wire  loop,  and  with  one  stroke  of  his 
tail  propelled  himself  into  a  knot  of  grass. 

"  The  snare  is  a  vulgar  and  inartistic  contrivance  !  "  ex 
claimed  Hector.  "  But  I  am  bound  to  see  fins  out  of  water, 
at  some  rate  !  He's  a  little  shy,  a  little  conservative,  — 
quite  a  prosperous  and  cautious  fish  ;  but  —  there's  his 
nose,  and  there  swings  the  wire  under  it." 

At  this  crisis  Charlotte  could  not  help  reminding  him  of 
what  he  had  said  of  the  sport  that  morning. 

"Don't  speak  of  such  disagreeable  things  just  at  this 
time  ! "  interrupted  Hector.  "  In  three  seconds  you  may 
laugh,  then  we  will  talk  about  cruelty  to  fishes ;  but  now 
—  look  out  for  your  head  ! " 

A  sudden  pull,  —  snap  went  the  pole, —  and  away  darted 
the  pickerel  up  stream,  with  the  wire  jerked  tightly  under 
his  gills,  and  the  line  streaming  after  him  through  the 
water.  He  was  out  of  sight  in  an  instant ;  but  the  tip  of 
the  spruce  pole,  to  which  the  line  was  attached,  swimming 
on  the  surface,  served  as  a  buoy  to  mark  his  course. 

"  So  much  for  a  short  line  and  a  brittle  pole  ! "  exclaimed 
Hector. 

"  Your  mother  thought  that  line  might  not  answer,  and 
gave  me  another,  —  I  had  quite  forgotten  it,"  said  Char 
lotte.  "  Here  it  is." 

"  But  my  snare  is  gone." 

"  I  can  give  you  a  wire  out  of  my  bonnet." 

"  And  how  about  the  cruelty  ?  "  said  Hector. 

"  Since  the  fish  is  for  your  mother,"  replied  Charlotte 
with  laughing  eyes. 

The  new  snare  was  scarcely  rigged,  when  the  pickerel, 


HECTOR  AND   CHARLOTTE  115 

having  got  clear  of  his  encumbrance,  reappeared  in  his 
favorite  haunt,  where  Hector  slipped  a  second  noose  over 
his  gills.  Another  pull,  —  and  his  pickerelship,  leaping 
with  a  sudden  splash  out  of  the  water,  slipped  from  the 
snare  and  fell  flouncing  into  Charlotte's  lap,  as  she  was  sit 
ting  on  the  grass.  She  flung  him  off  with  a  scream  ;  and 
the  next  moment  he  was  thrashing  the  shallow  water  in  a 
small  rocky  basin  below,  where  Hector  seized  him,  and  cast 
him  upon  dry  land. 

"  Have  ye  cotcht  him  ?  Have  ye  cotcht  him  ?  "  cried 
Bridget,  rushing  into  the  bushes  on  the  opposite  bank. 
"  Hould  ?im  !  and  I'll  be  afther  wading  acrost  to  yez  ! " 

Nobody  observed  her  until,  taking  her  shoes  under  her 
arm,  and  carefully  holding  her  dress,  she  stepped  down  in 
to  the  water  and  commenced  fording. 

"  Go  back,  you  ridiculous  creature ! "  cried  Hector. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  It's  the  big  floppin'  fish  I'd  be  havin' !  "  said  Bridget. 
"  An'  it's  brile  *im  for  dinner  I  will." 

"  Come  around  by  the  bridge,  then,  and  be  respectable," 
said  Hector.  "  You're  a  fright,  Bridget !  You  look  like  a 
Gothic  cottage !  " 

"  An'  where's  the  harm,  sure  ?  Nobody  tould  ye  to  be 
lookin'.  Ye  might  be  kapin'  yer  eyes  to  home,  jist !  " 

"  But  you'll  be  drowned,  Bridget !  You  are  not  amphibi 
ous  ;  you're  not  a  duck,  dear ;  I  can  take  my  oath  you're  not 
web-footed !  " 

At  that  moment  Corny's  grinning  red  face  made  its  ap 
pearance  among  the  bushes  behind  her. 

"  Go  it,"  he  cried  ;  "  'tain't  deep  !  " 

"Dape?"  echoed  Bridget.  "No  more  it  isn't!  I've 
waded  this  crick  a  dozen  o'  times,  an'  niver  a  bit  did  I  get 
drownded  yit !  " 

"  But  you  never  waded  in  this  spot,"  said  Hector. 
"There's  a  deep  place  right  before  you." 

Bridget  doubtingly :  "Miss  Charlit,  is  it  the  truth  he's 
tellin'  noo  ?  " 


116  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Charlotte  :  "  Can't  you  see  ?  " 

Bridget :  "  Faith,  an'  how  should  I  be  seem',  wid  the 
sun  in  the  wather  dazzlin'  the  eyes  of  me  out  o'  me  head 
inthirely  ?  " 

Corny  vociferously  :  "  Water-snakes,  Bridget !  " 

"  Och,  be  jabbers,  where  ?  " 

"Eight  behind  ye,  here,  streakin'  it  arter  ye  like 
blazes !  " 

Bridget,  in  a  fluster :  "  It's  lyin'  ye  are,  noo  !  " 

Corny :  "  I  hope  to  die !  There's  one  big  enough  to 
swaller  ye  !  He's  got  teeth  like  a  pitchfork  !  " 

Bridget,  dropping  skirts  and  shoes :  "  S'int  Pathrick, 
hilp  !  Is  there  a  snake,  Misther  Hector  ?  " 

Corny,  throwing  a  slab  of  flood-wood  into  the  creek : 
"  There  he  is !  He'll  have  ye  by  the  heels  in  no  time ! 
Scooter,  Bridget !  " 

The  panic-stricken  Bridget  plunged  forward  —  and  down 
ward  —  and  under.  For  a  moment  nothing  was  visible  but 
a  whirlpool  of  skirts  and  a  floating  sun-bonnet;  then  up 
rose  her  face  like  a  sea-nymph's,  covered  with  weeds  and 
hair,  and  dripping  profusely. 

Corny,  yelling  and  clapping  his  hands  :  "  Swim  !  Put  in ! 
He's  arter  ye  !  " 

Bridget :  "  Oh,  bloody  murther !  "  blowing  water  out 
of  her  mouth,  and  struggling  for  sight  and  breath.  "  It's 
drownded  I'll  be  !  I'se  kilt  inthirely  ! " 

Hector,  extending  his  fish-pole  :  "  Catch  this  !  " 

She  grasped  it  eagerly,  and  Hector  drew  her  to  the  bank. 
After  a  deal  of  struggling  and  stumbling  she  got  up,  with 
the  heavy  water  pouring  from  her  clothes,  and  looked 
around. 

"  Faix,"  said  she,  "  who  is  it  that's  kilt  ?  Quit  yer 
laughin',  wid  ye,  ye  botherin',  lyin'  spalpeen  of  a  Carny ! 
There's  niver  such  a  baste  as  a  wather-snake  anywheres  in 
the  crick  ;  d'ye  s'pose  I  didn't  know  that  ?  It's  makin' 
belave  skeert  I  was,  ahl  the  time  ! " 


HECTOR   AND   CHARLOTTE  117 

Hector  :   "  And  making  believe  dive,  too,  Bridget !  " 

Bridget  indignantly :  "  An'  is't  that  knocks  such  sights 
o'  fun  out  o'  yez  ?  D'ye  think  I  care  for  a  thrifle  of  a  wet 
foot  ?  " 

"  But  you  have  lost  your  shoes  !  " 

"Jist  as  if  't  wasn't  an  ould  pair  ?t  I  have  cast  away 
twice  this  marnin',  an  picked  up  again  out  o'  pity,  jist ! 
So  I  tha'ht  I'd  be  afther  lavin'  'em  in  the  crick,  an'  that 
would  be  the  last  of  'em,  bad  luck  to  'em !  Give  us  yer 
pole,  an'  I'll  be  fishin'  up  my  bunnit,  noo !  " 

Hector  :   "  I'll  get  it  for  you." 

Charlotte,  with  tears  in  her  eyes  :  "  Don't  wait  for  it, 
Bridget.  Run  to  the  house !  You  should  always  exercise 
after  a  cold  bath  !  " 

Bridget :  "  I'd  be  exercisin'  that  Carny,  if  I  had  hould  of 
'im  wonst !  Ye'll  be  gittin'  yer  pay  one  day,  ol'  fello' !  " 

Hector,  raising  a  drenched  rag  on  the  end  of  his  tishing- 
pole  :  "  Here's  your  bonnet !  " 

"An'  is  that  my  bunnit?  Bad  luck  to  it!  't  might 
bether  'ave  ghane  doon  strain  e  !  Laugh,  thin,  ye  owl  of  a 
Carny  !  Where's  yer  pickerel,  noo  ?  " 

"  Here,  take  him  and  run." 

"  Ouch !  but  he'll  be  afther  bitin'  me  with  that  noppin' 
tail  of  his  !  " 

"  Put  him  into  your  bonnet." 

"  An  do  ye  think  I'd  be  disgracin'  an  illigant  arthicle 
like  this  same  wid  his  slippery  carkiss  ?  Here's  the 
thing  that'll  do  beautifully.  Wrap  'im  up  in  it,  Misther 
Hector." 

Corny,  from  over  the  creek  :   "  Here  !  that's  my  jacket !  " 

Having  rolled  the  fish  in  the  garment,  which  was  one 
of  several,  belonging  to  Corny,  left  lying  in  the  fields  that 
summer,  Bridget  set  out  for  the  house,  muttering  to  her 
self,  and  shaking  her  head  defiantly,  her  wet  clothes 
clinging  and  flapping,  and  her  drenched,  uncombed  hair 
streaming  down  her  back.  Meanwhile  Mr.  Dunbury  wag 


118  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

calling  impatiently  to  Corny.  Hector  asked  the  latter  if 
he  heard. 

"  Wai,  I  s'pose  I  do,"  said  that  indifferent  youth,  seating 
himself  under  the  willows. 

"  Why  don't  you  answer,  then  ?  " 

"  Coz ;  I  s'pose  I  didn't  think  on't.  I  was  lookin'  at 
her." 

Mr.  Dunbury  called  again  at  the  top  of  his  lungs. 

"  W-a-a-a-1 !  "  bellowed  Corny,  "  I'm  a  comin'  !  "  and, 
taking  out  his  knife,  he  began  to  whittle  a  dry  stick. 

Hector  severely  :  "  Is  that  what  you  mean  by  coming  ?  " 

Corny :  "  What's  the  thunderin'  hurry,  I'd  like  to  know  ? 
Time  enough !  Say,  why  don't  ye  go  up  to  Jackwood's 
bridge,  an'  ketch  some  o'  them  suckers  ?  I  see  a  hull  slew 
o'  lunkin'  big  fellers  up  there  t'other  day." 

Mr.  Dunbury  was  calling  again;  and,  with  extreme  re 
luctance,  young  Master  Boughton  got  up  from  the  bushes, 
put  his  knife  out  of  sight,  and  returned  lazily  to  his  work. 

"  Come,  Charlotte,"  said  Hector,  "  let  us  stroll  up  the 
creek,  and  see  about  Corny's  suckers.  Will  you  come  ?  " 

The  fields  lay  fragrant  and  fair  before  her ;  and  to  go  out 
there,  alone  with  him,  into  the  beauty  and  calm  of  the  valley, 
seemed  an  almost  intoxicating  happiness.  She  hesitated ; 
but  he  said,  "  Come  !  "  again,  so  winningly  and  kindly,  that 
she  could  not  refuse. 

"  You  must  be  responsible  to  your  mother  for  taking  me 
away." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  returned  Hector,  with  a  strange  fervor  in 
his  tones,  "  I'll  be  responsible ;  I'll  be  anything  for  the  sake 
of  your  company." 

"  My  company  ?  "  she  repeated  doubtingly. 

Hector  turned  upon  her  a  look  so  radiant  and  tender 
that  it  thrilled  her  through  and  through. 

"  Aside  from  my  mother,"  said  he,  "  you  are  the  only 
person  I  see  in  whose  society  I  take  any  satisfaction ;  and 
you  know  it." 


HECTOR  AND   CHARLOTTE  119 

"  I  know/'  her  heart  fluttered,  "  I  know  that  you  are  often 
dissatisfied  and  lonely.  Your  mother  has  observed  it,  and 
it  troubles  her." 

"  Oh,  my  mother  does  not  understand  me  !  And  you  do 
not,  Charlotte." 

u  I  know  I  do  not ;  that  is  not  for  me." 

"  My  heart  craves  to  be  understood,  Charlotte ;  and  you 
might  understand  it,  if  you  would  !  I  could  throw  open  all 
doors  to  you,  but  you  will  not  even  look  into  the  inner 
chambers." 

"  It  is  because  I  have  no  right !  "  she  said,  with  down 
cast  eyes. 

Her  voice  was  low  and  tremulous.  Hector  looked  at  her 
inquiringly,  then,  walking  near  her  side,  took  her  hand ; 
but  she  withdrew  it  gently. 

"  Who  and  what  are  you  ?  "  he  cried  out  impulsively. 

"A  child  —  to  you." 

"  But  children  do  not  do  so ;  children  do  not  keep  us  at 
arm's  length;  children  are  trusting  and  simple." 

"  I  cease  to  be  a  child  when  you  would  make  ine  more 
than  that  to  you." 

"  And  why  not  more  ?  " 

"  Oh,  for  many  reasons  !  " 

"Name  one." 

She  hesitated ;  then,  as  he  urged  her,  answered  tremu 
lously,  "  I  am  not  worthy." 

"  Not  worthy ! "  Hector  seized  her  hand  again,  and  held 
it  clasped  in  his,  in  spite  of  her.  "  Not  worthy !  0 
Charlotte,  do  I  not  know  your  heart  ?  " 

"  But  you  do  not  know  my  past !  " 

"  That  has  been  dark,  I  know.  Although  you  have  never 
told  me  of  it,  I  see  something  of  what  you  have  suffered. 
But  think  of  my  past,  Charlotte !  'Tis  I  who  am  not 
worthy !  Oh,  the  rank  weeds  I  have  trampled  through ! 
It  is  the  thought  of  them  which  makes  me  sometimes  sick 
of  life." 


120  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  It  is  that  which  is  purifying  your  life ;  I  have  seen  so 
much." 

"Perhaps,  —  for  remorse  is  very  busy,  ploughing  over 
those  weeds." 

"And  perhaps  the  soil  of  your  nature  will  be  all  the 
richer  for  them,"  she  added  timidly. 

"  You  pale,  quiet,  mysterious  girl !  but  you  are  wise," 
cried  Hector.  "  Your  words  comfort  me ;  they  make  me 
want  to  confess  to  you.  I  try  to  believe  that  my  experi 
ence  has  been  necessary  and  useful;  but  since  I  have 
known  you,  I  have  seen  myself  so  soiled  and  stained, 
that  I  have  thought  there  was  not  rain  enough  in  the  sweet 
heavens  to  wash  me  clean." 

"  If  you  had  not  ideals  above  other  men,  you  would  not 
be  so  dissatisfied  with  yourself."  She  gave  him  a  bright, 
penetrating  look.  "  Do  you  know  what  your  name  is  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,"  he  answered,  with  a  pleased  but  puzzled  ex 
pression.  "  Name  me !  " 

"  ASPIRATION,"  she  said  with  a  radiant  smile  that  flat 
tered  his  very  soul. 

"  You  are  right !  "  he  exclaimed  proudly.  "  But  there  is 
something  else  you  do  not  see,"  and  he  resumed  the  strain 
of  self -accusation.  "  But  why  do  I  talk  to  you  in  this 
way  ?  to  you,  who,  above  all,  I  am  anxious  should  think 
well  of  me  !  Is  it  not  because  I  want  you  to  know  me,  — 
my  weakness  as  well  as  my  strength,  my  dark  side  no  less 
than  my  bright  side,  —  in  order  that  I  may  have  your 
sympathy  ?  " 

"  Remember  —  reflect,"  said  Charlotte,  with  almost 
passionate  entreaty,  "  I  am  but  your  servant." 

"  Servant !  I  hate  the  word  !  It  sounds  too  much  like 
slave !  There  is  no  servitude  to  the  soul  but  ignorance  and 
passion;  and  the  soul  in  you  is  all  I  have  to  deal  with. 
Had  I  found  you  in  the  meanest  capacity,  in  absolute 
bondage  even,  it  would  have  made  no  shade  of  difference  ; 
still  something  in  your  soul  would  have  spoken  to  some- 


HECTOR   AND   CHARLOTTE  121 

thing  in  mine,  —  would  have  called  me  brother,  and  I 
would  have  recognized  my  sister  ! " 

He  spoke  with  a  vehemence  that  appeared  to  alarm  his 
companion.  Her  cheek  paled,  and  her  lip  quivered. 

"  So  let  me  have  no  more  of  that ! "  he  went  on,  smiling 
gently.  "  We  will  put  our  feet  upon  the  false  partition  be 
tween  us.  You  understand  me,  —  I  have  no  thought  of 
falling  in  love  with  you ;  that  is  as  far  from  my  heart  as 
Jupiter  from  the  sun." 

Charlotte  laughed  a  sad  little  laugh,  and  said  there  was 
no  need  of  telling  her  that. 

"  Of  course  not ;  you  are  a  girl  of  sense.  It  is  because  I 
can  put  this  confidence  in  you,  and  know  that  you  will  not 
misinterpret  me,  that  I  esteem  you  —  that  I  choose  you  for 
a  friend." 

"But  you  have  so  many  old  friends  here,  —  friends  so 
much  worthier  than  I !  " 

"  I  have  not  one  such,  Charlotte.  I  cherish  but  a  shriv 
elled  respect  for  the  best  of  them, —  that  you  know." 

"  And  I  know  that  they  complain  of  you  for  that.  They 
were  once  your  intimates  ;  but  now  you  are  indifferent  to 
them.  And  it  is  you  who  have  changed,  they  say,  —  they 
never  change." 

"  True ;  I  have  changed,  I  do  change,  I  hope  always  to 
change.  And  it  is  because  they  never  change  that  the 
grass  has  grown  between  our  paths.  There  is  one  I  could 
name  ;  he  was  the  companion  of  my  boyhood  ;  there  were 
sympathy  and  confidence  between  us,  and  in  all  my  jour- 
neyings  I  never  forgot  him.  On  coming  home  I  antici 
pated  scarce  a  greater  pleasure  than  that  of  meeting  him. 
We  would  measure  experiences,  compare  philosophies,  and 
learn  so  much  of  each  other,  I  thought.  Well,  I  saw  him. 
He  was  a  withered  bough ;  he  bore  no  fruit  for  me.  His 
talk  was  of  oxen.  He  delighted  in  reminiscences  of  good 
horse-trades.  Great  stories  he  recounted  of  riding  frac 
tious  colts,  of  breaking  stubborn  steers,  of  running  tilt 


122  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

against  pugnacious  rams.  Conversation  agreeable  enough 
in  its  way,  but  unsatisfactory  on  the  whole.  In  principles 
and  truths  that  are  the  life  of  my  spirit  he  confessed  a 
total  lack  of  interest.  I  spoke  of  my  poetical  studies  —  he 
had  had  things  of  greater  importance  to  attend  to.  I  ad 
vanced  ideas  on  spiritual  culture  —  he  thought  them  dan 
gerous.  He  had  done  up  his  faith  in  the  shroud  of  his 
creed,  folded  his  arms,  and  was  waiting  for  a  resurrection. 
When  I  wished  to  lead  his  mind  toward  the  miracles  of 
life  and  growth,  he  branched  out  on  the  subject  of  onions, 
and  told  what  beds  of  'em  he  raised  last  year.  He 
is  but  a  sample  of  the  rest.  I  am  not  sorry  they  find  me 
changed." 

"  But  the  young  ladies,"  said  Charlotte  ;  "  they  are  not 
like  the  men." 

"  Some  of  them  are  pretty  and  intelligent.  I  find  real 
piety  and  goodness  in  a  few.  But  see  how  they  have  been 
educated !  I  do  not  complain  of  what  they  have  not 
learned,  so  much  as  of  what  they  have  learned  amiss.  The 
principal  use  of  their  ears  seems  to  be  to  catch  the  answer 
to  the  important  question  '  What  will  the  world  say  ?  '  But 
the  worst  of  all  is,  they  have  been  taught  by  their  wise 
mothers  to  subordinate  all  their  motives  and  aspirations 
to  a  low  matrimonial  ambition.  What  wonder,  then,  that 
I  neglect  them  for  you?  It  is  refreshing  to  find  one 
sensible  girl  who  has  no  thought  of  being  fallen  in  love 
with  ! " 

"  That  would  be  insane  in  me,  indeed ! "  said  Charlotte, 
smiling,  but  with  a  strange  emotion  in  her  face. 

"  And  yet,"  cried  Hector,  "  the  idea  is  not  so  absurd  as 
you  imagine  !  But  do  not  fear  !  My  days  of  fancy  are 
passed.  Had  I  seen  you  110  longer  ago  than  when  I  was  in 
the  South,  there  might  have  been  danger ;  but  there  is 
none  now.  Strange  !"  he  went  on,  "sometimes  when  I  am 
with  you  I  seem  to  be  again  in  the  South.  You  have  some 
Southern  peculiarities  of  speech." 


HECTOR   AND   CHARLOTTE  123 

Charlotte  drew  a  long  breath.  Her  countenance  was 
downcast  and  troubled.  He  regarded  her  wistfully. 

"  Come,  look  up,  —  smile,"  he  said  with  coaxing  playful 
ness. 

Charlotte  raised  her  eyes. 

"  How  have  I  grieved  you  ?  " 

"  You  have  not  —  it  was  nothing  you  said  "  — 

"And  yet,"  insisted  Hector,  "I  touched  some  chord  that 
suffering  has  made  sensitive.  How  you  distrust  me  !  " 

"I  do  not  distrust  you,"  said  Charlotte,  with  a  thrill  of 
fervor  in  her  tones. 

"  If  you  did  not,  you  would  tell  me  of  your  suffer 
ings.  You  would  lift  that  little  curtain  which  hides  your 
heart." 

They  had  stopped ;  they  were  standing  by  a  little  runnel 
in  the  meadow.  Hector  held  her  wrist ,  and  looked  down 
earnestly  in  her  face.  For  a  moment  she  struggled  with 
herself ;  then  spoke  out  hurriedly,  — 

"  Mr.  Dunbury,  you  have  been  true  to  me,  and  I  cannot 
deceive  you.  Let  me  tell  you  this,  then,  once  for  all.  If 
you  knew  my  history,  you  would  put  me  from  you.  It  is 
the  consciousness  of  this  that  shoots  me  through  with  pain, 
when  I  remember  myself  —  you  —  and  the  gulf  between 
us  !  " 

Hector  became  pale  with  apprehension. 

"Show  me  that  gulf,"  he  said,  with  an  incredulous  smile. 

"  No,  —  no,  —  I  have  warned  you  of  the  truth,  —  the  fact 
I  can  never  speak." 

Hector's  brow  was  overcast ;  but  seeing  how  strangely 
sad  and  fair  she  looked,  with  her  large  eyes  drooping  under 
his  searching  gaze,  he  placed  his  finger  playfully  under 
her  chin,  and  met  her  upward  glance  with  a  generous 
smile. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  said  in  a  low,  musical  tone.  "  I'll  try 
not  to  ask  again  for  what  does  not  belong  to  me.  Forget  it 
all ;  and  we  will  see  now  what  can  be  done  for  Corny's 


124  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

suckers,  —  for  here  we  are,  close  by  the  bridge,  and  the 
squirrels  on  the  fence  are  chattering  at  us." 

But  his  heart  was  no  longer  in  his  sport.  There  were  no 
fish  at  the  bridge  worth  catching,  he  said. 

"  Then  let  us  go  home,"  Charlotte  proposed. 

He  could  not  think  of  that;  the  charm  of  leading  her 
through  those  sweet  solitudes  was  too  pleasant  to  be  broken. 

"Don't  be  faint-hearted,"  said  he.  "If  we  go  a  little 
farther  we  can  pass  by  Mr.  Jackwood's  house,  and  per 
haps  get  a  glimpse  of  Phoebe's  bright  face  on  our  way 
home." 

And  Charlotte  still  had  power  to  do  only  what  he  asked, 
and  follow  where  he  led. 


MRS.   RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE  12o 


MRS.  RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE 

THE  grandmother  of  the  Jackwood  family,  like  the 
greatest  great-grandmother  of  us  all,  was  tempted  by  an 
apple.  It  came  floating  down  Himtersford  Creek,  and  was 
discerned  by  the  modern  Eve,  as  she  walked  upon  the 
shore,  filling  her  apron  —  not  a  fig-leaf  —  with  flood-wood 
fagots  for  the  kitchen  fire. 

"  A  good  nice  last  year's  russet,  true  as  I  live !  "  said 
Grandmother  lligglesty,  sneezing  at  the  sun  in  the  water. 
"It's  a  pity  to  have  it  wasted."  She  looked  about  for  a 
long  stick.  "  I  never  see !  Time  an'  agin  I've  stumbled 
over  sticks  in  this  'ere  shif'liss  pastur',  now  I  can't  for  the 
life  o'  me  lay  my  hand  on  one  !  " 

The  best  she  could  find  was  a  heavy,  crooked  branch, 
which  proved  to  be  some  less  than  an  inch  too  short. 

"  It's  jest  the  way  alluz ! "  she  burst  forth,  getting  up 
from  her  bent  posture.  "  Everything  is  so  hateful.  I've 
broke  my  back,  and  wet  my  foot  into  the  bargain !  Sich 
an  awk'ard  stick  !  '' 

All  this  time  the  apple,  tossing  in  the  bright  waves  by 
the  shore,  was  progressing  still  farther  from  her  own 
month,  towards  the  mouth  of  the  creek.  She  followed,  un 
til,  her  eye  resting  upon  Mr.  Jackwood' s  old  flat-bottomed 
boat,  she  hastened  to  get  aboard,  deposited  her  apron  of 
fagots  in  the  stern,  which  lay  upon  the  shore,  and  placed 
the  dry  seat  for  a  bridge  over  the  bilge-water  that  had 
settled  in  the  bow.  Upon  this  she  ventured,  armed  with 
her  crooked  branch ;  paddling  patiently  to  divert  the 


126  NEIGHBOR,  JACKWOOD 

apple  towards  her,  until  at  length  she  was  able  to  tickle 
it  with  the  tips  of  her  fingers.  Then,  after  stretching  and 
straining  until  she  became  purple  in  the  face,  she  grasped 
it  in  her  hand.  At  the  same  time  she  dropped  the  stick. 
Recovering  the  stick,  she  dropped  the  apple.  Then  she 
dropped  them  both.  Regaining  the  fruit,  she  placed  it  on 
the  bow  of  the  boat ;  but  not  feeling  at  home  on  a  bow  of 
that  description,  it  quietly  fell  off  whilst  she  was  recaptur 
ing  the  stick,  and  danced  laughingly  away  in  the  sunshine. 

"  Hold  on !  dear  me ! "  she  cried,  making  a  desperate 
effort  to  recover  it. 

The  attempt  proved  literally  fruitless;  and  in  her  vex 
ation  she  threw  the  stick  at  it  spitefully. 

"  Take  that,  you  miser'ble,  half-rotten,  good-f  or-nothin' ! " 

Having  bespattered  herself  profusely,  and  lost  both  the 
apple  and  the  branch,  she  crept  back  upon  her  bridge,  with 
her  features  all  knotted  up  in  a  snarl,  and  looked  around 
for  her  apron  of  fagots.  To  her  dismay,  she  found  them 
afloat  in  the  bilge-water,  rushing  back  into  the  stern.  The 
boat  was  unfastened  ;  and,  her  operations  serving  to  work  it 
off  the  shore,  she  now  saw  herself  sailing  slowly  and 
smoothly  out  into  the  stream. 

"  Whoa  !  whoa  ! "  cried  Grandmother  Rigglesty,  as  if  the 
boat  had  been  a  horse  or  an  ox  ;  "  whoa,  you  sir !  Bim?- 
lech  !  Betsy  !  My  sakes  !  can't  nobody  hear  ?  " 

Somebody  did  hear.  It  was  the  dog  Rover,  who  came 
capering  along  the  bank,  yelping  furiously. 

"  Here,  Rover ! "  she  cried,  "  that's  a  good  doggie  !  Help 
me,  quick  ! " 

Perhaps,  anticipating  the  sinking  of  the  boat,  she  looked 
for  salvation  in  his  bark.  But  the  dog  took  quite  an  er 
roneous  view  of  the  case,  regarding  the  call  as  of  an  en 
tirely  sportive  nature.  Considering  his  gallantry  challenged 
to  assist  in  some  wild  fun  projected  by  the  picturesque  old 
lady,  he  leaped  into  the  water,  and  commenced  a  furious 
attack  upon  the  boat  with  teeth  and  paws. 


MBS.   RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE  127 

"  Git  out ! "  ejaculated  Grandmother  Rigglesty  (he 
had  not  yet  got  in).  "  You'll  have  me  tipped  over,  sure's 
this  world  !  " 

The  more  she  was  in  earnest,  the  more  Rover  thought 
she  was  in  fun,  and  persisted  in  jumping  aboard  in  spite  of 
her.  The  boat  tipped  frightfully,  and  Grandmother  Rig- 
glesty  screamed.  Then  Rover  shook  himself,  showering 
her  with  spray  as  she  sat  perched  upon  her  plank  ;  and  she 
screamed  again.  Thinking  it  very  funny,  he  sat  down 
good-naturedly  in  the  bottom,  and  looked  up  wistfully  in 
her  face,  winking,  and  churning  in  the  water  with  his  tail. 
In  her  exasperation  she  began  to  kick  his  chops ;  upon 
which  he  showed  a  disposition  to  take  everything  in  good 
part,  by  playfully  masticating  her  foot. 

Meanwhile  the  boat  was  filling  rapidly,  and  threatening 
to  go  down  with  all  on  board.  By  some  good  fortune,  how 
ever,  an  island  appeared,  in  the  shape  of  a  round  bowlder, 
in  mid-channel ;  and  as  the  bow  struck  the  rock,  the  old  lady 
scrambled  upon  it,  leaving  her  apron  and  fagots  to  float 
down  stream  in  the  abandoned  wreck.  Rover  appeared  to 
consider  this  phase  of  the  adventure  as  the  funniest  of  all, 
and  endeavored  to  enhance  the  sport  by  crowding  her  off 
the  rock,  and  by  growling  and  snapping  at  her  toes  when 
she  refused  to  jump  into  the  water. 

At  this  pleasant  juncture  a  voice  hailed  from  below ; 
and  Hector  and  Charlotte  appeared,  coming  around  a  clump 
of  bushes  that  grew  upon  the  point  of  a  knoll.  Thereupon 
Rover,  swimming  to  the  bank,  ran  joyfully  to  his  old  ac 
quaintance,  and  attempted  to  leap  into  her  face,  with  in 
tent  to  lick. 

"  Go  away  ! "  cried  Charlotte.  "  I  can't  love  you  when 
you  are  so  wet ! " 

So  Rover  shook  himself  again,  and  set  out  to  rub  himself 
dry  on  Hector's  trousers.  But,  being  caught  up  suddenly 
by  the  legs,  he  described  in  the  air,  first  a  half-circle,  then 
a  tangent,  then  a  gentle  curve,  and  afterwards  came  up? 


128  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

snuffing  and  paddling,  in  mid-channel,  before  he  appeared 
to  understand  at  all  the  nature  of  the  phenomenon  that  had 
surprised  him. 

Hector,  to  the  old  lady :  "  What  have  you  got  there, 
grandmother  ?  " 

Old  lady  crossly :  "  I'm  in  a  strait  —  that's  what  I've 
got !  Don't  stop  to  parley ;  but  help  me,  if  you're  ever 
goin'  to  !  I  jest  went  to  git  an  apple  out  o'  the  crick,  when 
that  hateful  boat  had  to  go  off  with  me  ! " 

"  And  did  you  get  the  apple  ?  " 

"No,  I  didn't;  and  that's  what  makes  me  so  provoked !  " 

Hector  gravely  :  "  It  might  have  been  expected.  I  once 
saw  a  juggler  take  an  apple  out  of  an  orange  ;  but  I  never 
yet  heard  of  any  person  taking  one  out  of  a  current." 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  a  word  you're  a-talkin'  about !  " 
spluttered  the  old  lady.  "  I'm  ketchin'  my  death-cold 
here,  —  both  feet  soppin'  wet,  —  I'd  have  ye  know  !  " 

At  this  point,  finding  it  difficult  to  restrain  her  emotions 
at  sight  of  her  old  friend,  Charlotte  set  out  to  make  the 
Jackwoods  a  visit,  leaving  Hector  to  get  the  castaway  off 
the  rock. 

"  The  trollop  !  "  muttered  Grandmother  Eigglesty.  "  I 
declare,  if  she  wa'n't  la'fin'  right  to  my  face  !  " 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  demanded  Hector.  "  Take  it 
back,  or  I'll  not  help  you  out  of  the  creek  !  " 

"  She'd  no  bizniss  to  la'ft !  " 

"  If  she  is  human  she  couldn't  help  it ;  you  are  a  pleas 
ing  and  picturesque  spectacle,  grandmother  !  But  you  must 
be  better-natured ;  you  must  be  kind  and  patient  and  chair- 
table,  my  dear  friend.'7 

"  I  s'pose  I  was  hasty,"  the  old  lady  confessed  reluc 
tantly.  "  But  you  needn't  'a'  snapped  me  up  on't  so  short ! 
I  didn't  mean  no  harm  !  " 

"  That'll  do  pretty  well  for  a  beginning.  If  you  keep  on, 
you  will  get  to  have  quite  a  Christian  temper,"  said  Hec 
tor,  "  by  the  time  you  are  old." 


MRS.    RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE  129 

The  boat  had  gone  aground  upon  a  sand-bar  near  the 
bank,  and  Hector,  reaching  it  with  his  fishing-pole,  drew  it 
towards  him,  and  dragged  it  upon  the  shore. 

"  Cultivate  patience,  grandmother  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  the  craft 
stands  in  need  of  repairs." 

Having  emptied  the  water,  fagots  and  all,  into  the  creek, 
he  deliberately  set  about  calking  the  boat  with  the  old 
lady's  apron. 

"  Marcy  on  me  !  "  gasped  Grandmother  Kigglesty  ;  "  I 
shall  fly  !  " 

"  Do  so,"  said  Hector ;  "  and  you  will  save  me  this 
trouble.  Be  careful,  though,  when  you  alight ;  you  will 
frighten  people." 

As  she  gave  no  decided  indication  of  going  up,  he  went 
on  with  his  calking,  sparing  no  expense  of  time  or  calico  in 
stopping  the  leaks.  Having  accomplished  his  work  to  his 
satisfaction  he  launched  the  boat,  jumped  aboard  with  his 
fishing-pole,  shoved  out  to  the  rock,  and  brought  the  old 
lady  safe  to  land. 

Strange  as  it  may  appear,  she  felt  anything  but  emotions 
of  benevolence  and  gratitude.  Nothing  could  soothe  her 
soreness  of  heart,  and  the  rheumatic  pains  in  her  neck  and 
back,  like  the  balm  of  some  sweet  revenge.  Accordingly, 
while  Hector  was  picking  her  apron  out  of  the  seams  of  the 
boat,  she  commenced  a  similar  operation  upon  Charlotte's 
character. 

"  She's  a  gal  't  means  well,  —  I  can  say  that  for  her," 
she  began,  her  fear  of  Hector  preventing  her  from  ap 
proaching  the  subject  too  openly  ;  "  and  when  that's  the 
case,  I'm  sure  we'd  oughter  kinder  lend  a  helpin'  hand  to 
anybody,  no  matter  'f  they've  ben  the  wust  critturs  't  ever 
lived." 

Hector  was  interested;  but,  pretending  indifference,  he 
continued  to  pick  away  at  the  old  lady's  apron.  She  at  the 
same  time  picked  away  at  Charlotte.  She  told  the  whole 
history  of  the  disguise,  and  of  the  young  girl's  exposure 


130  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

the  day  before  she  left  Mr.  Jackwood's.  As  it  was  the  first 
intelligence  of  the  kind  Hector  had  received,  it  troubled 
him,  his  mind  naturally  reverting  to  what  Charlotte  had 
that  morning  said  of  her  past  life.  Mrs.  Rigglesty  per 
ceived  her  advantage,  and  pursued  it  venomously.  She 
said  she  had  known  Charlotte  for  more  than  twelve  years ; 
and  that  on  a  visit  to  North  Nincum,  where  the  girl  be 
longed,  she  had  learned  all  about  her  recent  proceedings. 
These  had  led  to  the  disgrace  of  the  family,  and  to  her 
own  flight.  The  story  was  one  that  the  old  lady  could 
not  have  invented ;  and  the  confident  manner  in  which 
she  identified  Miss  Woods  with  the  girl  at  North  Nincum 
produced  an  overwhelming  effect  upon  Hector. 

Meanwhile,  in  company  with  the  bitter  old  lady,  he 
arrived  at  the  house.  Phoebe  being  absent,  Charlotte  was 
found  in  conversation  with  Mrs.  Jackwood,  who  was  busy 
preparing  dinner.  Grandmother  Eigglesty  moved  by  them 
like  a  muttering  cloud,  dropping  rain  from  her  wet  apron, 
which  she  gave  a  final  twist  before  hanging  it  upon  the 
oven-door  to  dry. 

"  Oh !  oh  !  "  starting  and  clapping  her  hand  behind  her, 
"  my  poor  back  !  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  ran  to  her  assistance.  "  I'll  take  care  o' 
that,  mother  !  "  spreading  out  the  apron.  "  Sed  down,  Hec 
tor.  I  can't  make  it  come  handy  to  call  you  Mr.  Dunbury. 
Le'  me  take  off  your  wet  shoes  an'  stockin's,"  to  the  old 
lady. 

"  No,  never  mind  !  I  can  do  it,  I  guess,  —  if  I  can't,  it's 
jest  as  well.  I  wish  that  door  could  be  kep'  shet  once  ! 
There's  a  draft  of  air  comes  right  on  to  my  shoulders  and 
neck ! " 

Charlotte  arose  and  closed  the  door.  Hector's  eyes  fol 
lowed  her  with  a  searching  look,  which  startled  her  as  she 
turned  and  caught  his  eye. 

"  Oh,  don't  trouble  yourself,  I  beg ! "  said  the  old  lady, 
as  Mrs.  Jackwood  insisted  on  removing  her  wet  stockings. 


MKS.   RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE  131 

"?T  needn't  make  a  mite  o'  difference,  jes'  cause  there's 
visitors  here ;  they  won't  mind  the  looks,  though  you 
shouldn't  think  I'm  wuth  niakin'  a  fuss  over,  —  for  I'm 
sensible  I  ain't,  myself;  I've  had  that  lesson  to  laru  perty 
thorough  in  my  old  age  !  " 

And,  with  a  disconsolate  air,  Grandmother  Rigglesty 
fumbled  in  her  bag  for  the  Good  Samaritan,  and  consulted 
him  in  her  trouble,  as  of  old.  Having  dried  her  eyes,  she 
looked  down  and  saw  Rover  wagging  his  tail,  and  regard 
ing  her  with  an  expression  that  seemed  to  say,  "  Didn't  w'e 
have  capital  fun  ?  "  —  upon  which  she  converted  the  hand 
kerchief  into  a  whip,  and  made  a  sudden  and  spiteful  cut 
with  it  at  the  good-natured  cur. 

"  There  !  I  wish  to  goodness  somebody'd  take  that  dog 
and  chop  his  head  off !  " 

"  Why,  what  has  the  dog  done  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Jackwood. 

As  she  spoke,  Rover  rallied,  and,  making  a  pounce  at 
the  Good  Samaritan,  seized  him  with  his  teeth  and  paws, 
and  began  to  shake  and  tear  him,  in  a  prodigious  sham 
fury. 

"  You  see  what  he's  done ! "  ejaculated  the  old  lady. 
"  Gi'  me  them  tongs  !  " 

Forgetting  her  rheumatism  and  wet  feet,  she  started 
from  the  chair,  and  with  one  stocking  off,  and  one  stocking 
on,  like  "  my  son  John,"  of  high-diddle-dumpling  memory, 
commenced  an  animated  pursuit  of  Rover  around  the  room. 
The  poor  dog  was  at  last  fairly  cornered,  and  the  forked 
thunderbolt  was  about  to  fall  prone  upon  the  head  and 
front  of  his  offending,  when  the  door  was  opportunely 
opened,  and  lUm  made  his  appearance,  blustering. 

"  Here,  Rover  ! "  he  cried,  —  "  cut  !  " 

At  the  word,  with  craven  head  and  tail  depressed,  Rover 
darted  between,  the  legs  of  his  young  master,  and  whisked 
out  of  the  house,  while  the  tongs  came  down  upon  the  floor 
behind  him  with  a  jar  which  filled  the  old  lady's  arm  with 
stings  from  the  fingers  to  the  elbow. 


132  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  There  !  That's  all  for  you,  you  good-f or-nothin' !  I've 
broke  my  arm  —  perty  nigh  !  " 

Bim,  undaunted  :  "  You  might  let  the  dog  alone  !  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Bim'lech  !  Bim'lech  ! " 

Bim  stoutly :  "  She  begun  it !  " 

Old  lady  :  "  Oh,  I  wouldn't  interfere  !  Let  him  sass  me 
all  he  wants  to ;  that's  what  I  was  made  for,  I  s'pose  ! 
It's  all  owin'  to  him  't  I  got  my  feet  wet.  He  left  the 
boat  right  where  he  know'd  't  would  go  off  with  anybody 
if  they  jest  stepped  into  it.  I  never  see  sich  ugliness  ! " 

After  that  there  was  a  lull,  Mrs.  Rigglesty  heating  her 
feet  at  the  stove,  with  now  and  then  a  deep,  prolonged  sigh 
of  ostentatious  suffering  ;  Bim  looking  sheepish,  and  drum 
ming  on  the  window,  as  Charlotte  inquired  about  his  health 
and  spirits  ;  Hector  twirling  his  hat ;  and  Mrs.  Jackwood 
apologizing. 

"  Sakes  alive  ! "  suddenly  burst  forth  the  old  lady ; 
"  look  at  that  shoe  !  I  declare  if  'tain't  comiii'  to  pieces  ! 
Them  new  pair  't  I  bought  o'  that  plaguy  pedler  o'  yourn 
only  t'other  day,  an'  paid  ten  cents  more  for  'n  I  ever  pay 
for  shoes,  on  account  o'  the  extry  soles,  an'  now,  the  fust 
time  they  git  a  little  grain  wet,  —  only  look  at  'em  !  " 

"  When  you  have  come  to  my  years,"  said  Hector,  "  you 
will  have  learned  to  beware  of  extra  pretensions.  As  with 
people,  so  with  shoes.  Give  me  a  glass  of  water,  Mrs. 
Jackwood,  and  we  will  go  home.  We  are  promised  fish 
for  dinner,  and  I  have  a  foreshadowing  of  thirst." 

"  Our  well's  give  out  this  summer,"  said  Mrs.  Jack- 
wood.  "  Phoebe's  gone  to  the  spring  for  water,  an'  I'm  ex- 
pectin'  her  back  every  minute." 

"  She's  off  readin'  that  nasty  novil  somewheres  ! "  spoke 
up  Grandmother  Eigglesty.  "  She's  at  it  every  chance  she 
can  git.  I'd  burn  it  up  if  she  was  a  child  o'  mine !  There, 
they're  gone,  arter  so  long  a  time  !  That  Hector's  jes' 
like  his  father,  for  all  the  world,  —  only  more  so,  if  any 
thing  ! " 


MRS.    RIGGLESTY'S   ADVENTURE  133 

Bim,  following  the  visitors  to  the  gate,  gave  vent  to  his 
feelings  in  breathing  defiance  against  the  old  lady. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  pipe  ?  "  asked 
Charlotte. 

"  Bim,  desperately  :  "  It's  hern  ;  and  I'm  goin'  to  put 
some  powder  in  it,  an'  blow  her  up,  to  pay  her  !  " 

Hector  :   "  I  take  it,  then,  she  blows  you  up  sometimes." 

"  I  don't  care  for  her  !  "  Bim  swung  his  head,  with  a 
swaggering  expression.  "  I  put  thistles  in  her  han'kerchief 
t'other  day  !  Golly  !  didn't  she  scream  !  " 

Charlotte,  taking  the  boy's  hand  :  "  I'm  afraid  you  are 
not  so  good  to  her  as  you  might  be." 

Bim,  earnestly  :  "  Who  could  ?  Here,  Rove,"  pulling 
the  dog's  ears,  "  say  good-by  !  " 

"  Yahowawoooiiii  !  "  said  Rover,  compromising  a  howl 
with  a  yawn. 

On  the  way  home  Charlotte  felt  a  cloud  resting  upon 
her  spirit.  It  was  heaviest  and  chillest  when  Hector  was 
nearest.  Through  it  his  smiles  looked  cold,  and  his  laugh 
sounded  hard  and  hollow  to  her  ear. 

He  appeared  to  notice  her  but  little,  but  went  bowling 
stones  along  the  road ;  sometimes  throwing  them  high 
in  the  air,  and  catching  them  dexterously  as  they  came 
down. 

"  This  is  life  !  How  we  poor  mortals  toil  and  sweat 
over  our  serious  games  !  And  what  is  the  result  of  it 
all  ?  A  little  dust  like  that  this  cobble  raises  in  the 
road  !  " 

The  missile,  bounding  from  the  path,  leaped  through  the 
fence  into  a  clump  of  bushes  growing  on  the  other  side. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  Oh  !  Oh !  Oh !  "  screamed  a  shrill  voice  ;  and 
straightway  out  ran  a  wild-looking  creature  into  the  field, 
bareheaded,  writh  hair  flying,  and  hands  clasped  over  her 
ears. 

"Ha!"  said  Hector,  "there's  unexpected  game!  Are 
you  hurt,  Phoebe  ?  " 


134  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Phoebe :  "  I  guess  so  !  I'm  so  scar't  I  don't  know  a  word 
I  do,  or  anything  I  say  !  What  was  that  ?  " 

"  A  hailstone,  Phoebe  !  Come  here,  and  let  me  look  at 
the  hole  in  your  head." 

Phoebe,  quickly  putting  up  her  hand :  "  Is  there  one  ?  " 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  and  I'll  show  you." 

She  ran  up  to  the  fence,  and  Hector  reached  over  to  her. 
"  It  opens  every  time  you  speak.  There  ! "  And,  placing 
her  finger  in  her  mouth,  he  closed  her  teeth  upon  it. 

"That's  just  like  you,  Hector  Dunbury !  If  t'was  any 
body  else,  I  never'd  speak  to  you  again  ! " 

Pouting  a  little,  and  blushing  a  good  deal,  Phoebe  ran 
behind  the  sumachs,  confusedly  putting  up  her  hair  by  the 
way. 

"  Is  that  what  you  call  a  hailstone  ?  "  she  cried,  tossing 
the  cobble  over  the  fence.  "  You  threw  it !  " 

"  To  be  sure ;  and  it  was  a  friendly  hail,  Phoebe.  You 
should  have  hailed  me  pleasantly  in  return,  instead  of 
going  off  in  a  fright." 

"  I  guess  you'd  'ave  been  frightened  to  have  a  great  rock 
come  thrashing  through  the  bushes  onto  your  head,  when 
you  was  asleep  !  Wouldn't  he,  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  If  anything  could  frighten  him,"  said  Charlotte. 
"  What  book  have  you  ?  " 

"  '  Alonzo  and  Melissa.'  Did  you  ever  read  it  ?  I  wish  I 
hadn't  begun  it,  for  I  don't  like  it  a  bit,  —  but'  I  can't  let  it 
alone  till  it's  finished,  anyway.  I  set  up  till  two  o'clock 
last  night,  and  got  so  excited  over  it  that  when  I  went  to 
bed  I  couldn't  sleep  a  wink,  but  see  balls  of  fire,  and  heard 
doors  slam,  and  felt  cold  hands  on  my  arm,  all  the  rest  of 
the  night ;  and  I've  been  so  sleepy  all  day  I  can't  hardly 
keep  my  eyes  open." 

Phoebe  handed  the  book  to  Charlotte  through  the  rails ; 
then,  having  passed  her  pail  of  water  over  to  Hector,  and 
asked  him  to  turn  around,  and  not  look,  she  began  to  climb 
the  fence. 


MRS.   RIGGLESTY'S  ADVENTURE  135 

Hector  made  a  cup  of  a  basswood-leaf,  and  having  filled 
it  for  Charlotte  to  drink,  and  afterward  drank  out  of  it 
himself,  shook  the  water  from  it  into  Phoebe's  face. 

"  You  are  a  dull  girl  to  fall  asleep  over  '  Alonzo  and 
Melissa.'  Good-by.  Your  mother  is  waiting  for  you." 

"  Don't  hurry  off  so !  I  wouldn't  have  got  over  the 
fence,  only  I  thought  you'd  stop  and  talk  a  minute." 

"  I've  no  minute  to  spare.  Time  is  precious,  Phoebe,  and 
I  hear  Bridget  blowing  the  dinner-horn.  Go,  and  take  that 
fatal  stone  with  you  as  a  keepsake.  It  has  waked  you  from 
one  dream  of  romance ;  and  it  may  save  you  from  many 
another,  if  you  will  treasure  it  as  a  type  of  man's  heart, 
and  look  at  it  whenever  you  think  of  falling  in  love." 

"  If  that  is  a  type  of  man's  heart,  what  is  a  type  of 
woman's  ?  "  asked  Charlotte. 

"  Still  a  stone,  but  it  should  be  hollow.  And  yet  not 
every  heart  is  so  —  not  every  heart ! "  added  Hector  in  a 
changed  tone. 

He  walked  away  with  Charlotte  in  silence,  leaving  the 
gay  Phoebe  to  roll  the  cobble  carefully  in  her  apron,  and 
carry  it  to  the  house  with  her  pail  of  water. 

Scarce  another  word  was  spoken  by  either  Hector  or  his 
companion  until  they  reached  home.  Then,  as  they  were 
passing  under  the  porch,  Charlotte,  whose  heart  was  full, 
could  not  help  saying,  — 

"  How  dissatisfied  you  are  with  me  to-day  !  " 

"  With  all  the  world,  and  with  myself  most  of  all !  "  re 
joined  Hector. 

Charlotte  would  have  asked  "  Why  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Hector,  perceiving  her  thoughts,  "  I 
have  made  a  discovery."  And  he  gave  her  a  look  of  dark 
significance. 

Discovery  !  The  word  and  the  look  fell  upon  her  heart 
fnth  stunning  power. 

"  It  is,"  he  added,  smiling  bitterly,  —  "I  have  left  my 
fishing-pole  at  Mr.  Jackwood's  !  " 


136  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 


XI 

DANGEROUS    SYMPTOMS 

PROM  that  day  Hector's  treatment  of  Charlotte  was 
marked  by  strange  inconsistencies.  Sometimes  his  manner 
toward  her  was  irresistibly  gentle  and  tender;  then  the 
lightning  of  his  wit  flashed  out  upon  her,  sharp  and  sud 
den,  from  the  cloud  of  his  melancholy ;  or  his  assumed 
indifference  chilled  her  like  the  north  wind. 

One  day,  when  she  had  suffered  extremely  from  his  fit 
ful  treatment,  Mrs.  Dunbury  called  her  to  her  side.  The 
good  woman  was  reposing  in  her  easy-chair,  and  her  counte 
nance  beamed  with  a  broken  and  sorrowful  smile  as  Char 
lotte  drew  near  and  seated  herself  at  her  feet. 

"  My  dear  child,"  and  the  invalid  laid  her  hand  with  a 
gentle  touch  upon  the  young  girl's  head,  "  my  heart 
compels  me  to  speak  to  you  on  a  subject  which  we  have 
both  avoided  too  long.  Let  us  be  true,  let  us  be  friends 
indeed,  Charlotte,  if  not  for  my  sake  or  yours,  then  for  my 
son's  —  for  Hector's."  There  was  a  pause.  Charlotte's 
very  soul  stood  still,  and  the  silence  seemed  to  ring  as  she 
listened.  "  You  will  tell  me  if  I  am  wrong,  but  I  think  — 
I  am  sure  —  Hector  is  interested  in  you !  " 

Charlotte  started,  and  gazed  with  a  questioning  look  into 
her  friend's  benignant  face. 

"  If  it  is  so,"  said  Mrs.  Dunbury,  "  I  shall  not  be  dis 
pleased.  Only  tell  me  true." 

"  But  it  is  not  so !  "  exclaimed  Charlotte,  with  singular 
vehemence.  "  He  dislikes  me  !  —  you  know  he  does  !  " 

"If  you  say  so,  my  child,  I  will  believe  at  least  that 


DANGEROUS  SYMPTOMS  137 

you  think  so.  But  I  imagined  he  had  made  advances  to 
you  "- 

"  Never  !  never  !  " 

"  You  will  pardon  me,  then,  for  troubling  you,"  said  the 
invalid  ;  "  but,  oh,"  with  starting  tears,  "  if  you  but  knew 
how  much  his  destiny  depends  upon  the  affections  of  his 
heart !  I  will  tell  you  a  secret,  Charlotte.  There  is  —  it 
is  better  in  any  event  that  you  should  know  —  a  taint 
in  our  family  of  —  hereditary  insanity. " 

A  thrill  of  horror  shot  through  Charlotte. 

"  I  am  a  mother,"  the  invalid  said,  "  and  I  am,  perhaps, 
weak  and  foolish.  But  this  concerns  you,  and  I  need  your 
aid  and  sympathy." 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  What  can  I  do  ?  "  demanded 
Charlotte. 

"  Be  quiet,  my  good  child,  and  hear  me.  I  see  no  safety 
for  my  son  but  in  a  happy  marriage.  A  misplaced  affec 
tion  is  the  most  I  have  to  fear.  There,  dear  Charlotte," 
the  invalid  dropped  a  tear  on  her  companion's  hand,  "  I 
have  laid  open  to  you  the  most  secret  apartment  of  my 
heart ;  you  will  not  profane  the  trust,  I  know." 

For  the  moment  Charlotte  was  overpowered  with  con 
flicting  emotions,  —  amazement  and  distress,  not  unaccom 
panied  by  a  certain  vague,  fearful  joy.  Then  with  a  firm 
but  gentle  dignity  she  replied,  — 

"  I  am  grateful,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  grateful,  for  your 
kind  thoughts  of  me,  and  your  good  will !  I  would  lay 
down  my  life  for  you,  and  count  it  as  nothing.  But  I  can 
never  be  anything  more  to  Hector  than  I  am." 

"One  word,"  said  Mrs.  Dunbury,  in  a  faint  voice;  "could 
you  —  care  for  him  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  thought  which  even  in  my  dreams  I  have  not 
dared  to  entertain." 

"  Ah,  Charlotte  !  I  think  I  read  in  your  heart  what  you 
dare  not  read  yourself.  Cover  it  up,  cover  it,  by  all  means 
fromhim,  until  he  calls  for  it." 


138  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  He  will  never  call  for  it !  And  if  he  should,"  ex 
claimed  Charlotte,  "  I  could  not  give  it  him  !  I  will  go  ;  I 
will  leave  your  house  this  day  !  It  will  be  better  for  me, 
—  better  for  you  and  him." 

Mrs.  Dunbury  drew  her  to  her  bosom.  Charlotte  strug 
gled  to  free  herself. 

"  You  know  not  whom  you  take  to  your  heart !  "  she 
said,  with  increased  passion.  "  And  your  son,  if  he  has 
a  thought  of  love  for  me,  he  knows  not  how  worse  than 
thrown  away  it  is  !  We  are  divided  by  a  destiny  sharper 
than  swords  !  Do  not  question  me,  for  I  can  tell  you  noth 
ing.  Because  I  cannot ;  because,  if  I  stay,  I  must  conceal 
and  deceive  ;  because  I  would  not  repay  your  kindness  and 
trust  by  such  ingratitude,  —  I  will  go,  and  go  at  once." 

"  No,  Charlotte  ;  you  shall  stay  !  Keep  your  secret,"  said 
the  invalid,  "  if  you  will ;  but  stay,  dear  Charlotte,  and  you 
will  not  only  confer  a  blessing  on  me,  but  perhaps  save 
another  from  the  worst  fate  that  can  befall." 

Charlotte  was  deeply  moved. 

"  No,  no  !  I  must  not ;  I  cannot !  Your  love  burns  me 
like  fire  !  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Mrs.  Dunbury.     "  I  hear  his  step." 

Scarcely  had  Charlotte  time  to  regain  her  feet  when  the 
door  opened.  Hector  entered,  and  threw  himself  upon  a 
chair,  while  the  curtains  of  the  recess  behind  which  she 
had  hastily  taken  refuge  were  still  rustling. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  my  son  ?  " 

"  Upon  the  mountain,  to  free  my  lungs.  I  should  stifle 
if  I  did  not  climb  occasionally  above  the  reek  of  human 
breaths.  I  fell  asleep  under  a  tree,  and  waked  to  find  a 
woodchuck  smelling  of  my  boot.  The  mantle-hem  of  civil 
ization  lies  so  thin  and  ravelled  on  that  altitude,  that  the 
wild  beasts  have  not  yet  become  corrupted  by  the  acquaint 
ance  of  man." 

"  How  pale  you  look  !     Are  you  ill  ?  " 

"  No,  mother.     I  have  been  fighting." 


DANGEROUS   SYMPTOMS  139 

"  Fighting,  my  son  !     With  whom  ?  " 

"  With  my  worst  enemy." 

"  Oh,  why  do  you  have  these  terrible  struggles  with 
yourself  ?  " 

"  Because  I  find  in  myself  that  rebellion  which  is  to  be 
crushed  !  " 

"  I  would  you  were  a  Christian !  "  breathed  the  pious 
woman. 

"  I  would  I  were,  indeed  ;  for  if  I  had  that  grace,  I 
might  convert  another,  —  then  the  world  could  boast  of 
two." 

Mrs.  Dunbury  changed  her  tactics.  "  You  should  be 
married,  Hector." 

"  AVhy,  so  I  should  ;  and  so  should  every  man.  But  how 
much  easier  it  is  said  than  done  ! " 

"  You  vex  me  when  you  talk  so.  You  might  have  been 
married  five  years  ago." 

"  After  a  fashion,  mamma ;  but  I  thank  my  stars  that 
my  neck  escaped  the  yoke  ;  for  I  have  learned  to  prize  in 
woman  qualities  never  dreamed  of  in  the  heat  of  my  youth. 
What  if  I  were  united  to  such  a  one  as  I  should  then  have 
chosen  ?  "  Hector  shuddered.  "  God  be  praised  for  the 
institution  of  old  maids  and  bachelors,  say  I !" 

He  took  up  a  book.  But  having  commenced  sounding 
him  on  a  subject  near  to  her  heart,  his  mother  pursued  it 
still. 

"  You  must  not  look  for  perfection,  my  son." 

"  I  look  for  nothing,  —  only  for  the  heart  that  can  com 
mand  the  full  power  of  mine." 

"  Need  you  go  far  for  that  ?  If  you  do  not  require 
wealth  or  position,  there  are  certainly  women  of  soul " 

"Name  one  !  " 

"To  speak  at  random,"  said  Mrs.  Dunbury,  carelessly, 
"  or,  rather,  to  commence  nearest  home,  there  is  " 

"  Ah !  "  said  Hector,  with  a  smile,  glancing  toward  the 
recess. 


140  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Perhaps  she  would  not  have  you,"  said  the  invalid, 
with  an  affected  laugh ;  "  but  you  might  make  the  attempt." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Hector  severely,  "if  you  jest,  your  wit 
is  unseasonable.  She  may  be  all  a  fond  mother  could  wish 
for  her  darling  son,  but  certainly  you  would  not  expect  me 
to  marry  her  unless  I  loved  her." 

Mrs.  Dunbury's  eyes  glistened.  "  How  can  you  help 
loving  her  ?  " 

"  How  can  you  help  loving  —  musk  ?  " 

"  That's  a  foolish  question,  Hector." 

"  Or  an  answer  to  a  foolish  question,  dear  mother ! " 

Hector  threw  the  book  down  and  left  the  room. 

"  Charlotte  !  "  whispered  Mrs.  Dunbury. 

Flushed  with  excitement,  but  with  calm  dignity  of  mien, 
Charlotte  came  forth. 

"  Did  you  hear  what  was  said  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  all !  " 

"  And  you  are  not  offended  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  am  glad  ! "  said  Charlotte,  smiling. 

"  And  —  you  will  not  leave  us  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  you  wish  it.  I  am  stronger  now,  and  I  will 
stay." 

She  spoke  with  her  graceful  form  drawn  up  proudly,  and 
with  a  fine  disdain  flashing  in  her  eyes. 

At  that  moment  Hector  returned  for  his  hat.  Taking  it 
from  the  table,  he  passed  on,  and  opened  the  curtains  be 
fore  the  recess  where  the  girl  had  stood. 

"  What  are  you  looking  for  ?  "  asked  his  mother. 

"  Excuse  me,  —  I  am  trying  to  discover  what  has  made 
Charlotte  grow  so  tall,  and  given  her  so  fine  a  color,  within 
the  last  five  minutes." 


THE   WEDDING  141 


XII 

THE    WEDDING 

THERE  was  to  be  a  wedding  in  the  village,  to  which  the 
Dunburys  were  invited ;  and  it  devolved  upon  Hector  to 
represent  the  family.  To  his  mother's  surprise  and  gratifi 
cation,  he  engaged  to  undertake  the  responsibility  upon 
one  condition.  "  Charlotte,"  said  he,  "  shall  go  with  me." 

Charlotte  shrank  from  the  thought  of  seeing  society ;  but 
she  had  no  good  excuse  to  offer  —  not  even  on  the  score 
of  dress  ;  for  since  her  residence  with  the  Dunburys  she 
had  been  liberally  provided  for  in  that  respect.  Notwith 
standing,  therefore,  certain  forebodings  she  had,  she  con 
sented  to  accompany  Hector. 

The  ceremony  was  to  take  place  in  the  evening  ;  and  in 
due  season  Corny  brought  the  horse  and  buggy  to  the  door. 

"  It  is  a  brave  wedding  we  are  going  to  ! "  said  Hector 
as  they  drove  away.  "  The  fair  young  bride  is  in  her 
thirty-fifth  summer,  —  a  little  gray  and  faded  but  for  the 
virtues  of  a  judicious  hair-wash  and  the  excellent  care 
taken  of  her  complexion.  When  I  was  a  schoolboy,  aged 
ten,  she  was  the  belle  of  the  village,  and  had  as  many 
lovers  as  she  could  count  on  her  fingers  and  toes.  Old 
men  renewed  their  age  to  become  her  suitors,  and  boys 
were  as  sure  to  fall  in  love  with  her  as  they  were  to  have 
down  on  their  chins.  I  was  one  of  the  predestinated,  and 
at  sixteen  experienced  two  days  of  excessive  melancholy 
in  consequence  of  a  rejection.  Well,  having  suffered  the 
first  and  second  generation  of  her  admirers  to  pass  away, 
she  has  chosen  one  out  of  a  third  thin  brood  of  weaklings, 


142  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

who  have  managed  to  get  up  a  feeble  show  of  the  ancient 
custom  in  these  latter  days." 

Charlotte  hoped  the  bridegroom  was  worthy. 

"  Oh,  he  is  worthy  enough ;  although,  to  speak  truth, 
she  would  not  have  lowered  even  her  haughty  glance  to 
his  level  five  years  ago." 

"  Why  will  she  now,  then  ?  " 

"Because  he  stands  to  her  in  the  interesting  position 
of  a  last  chance  for  a  husband.  And  it  is  so  very  horrible 
to  live  an  old  maid,  you  know  ! " 

"  But,"  said  Charlotte,  "  it  is  dreadful  —  such  a  union  ! " 

"  Oh,  it  will  do,  it  will  do,  as  matches  average  ! " 

Arrived  at  the  bride's  house,  Hector  and  Charlotte  were 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  a  large  company,  some  silent, 
some  conversing  in  subdued  voices,  and  all  very  solemn. 

"If  I  had  never  been  to  a  wedding  before,"  whispered 
Hector,  "I  should  think  we  had  made  a  mistake,  and  got 
into  a  funeral." 

Suddenly  there  was  a  hush,  and  the  happy  pair,  appear 
ing  with  the  bridesmaids  and  groomsmen,  marched  to  the 
place  assigned  them  in  the  light  of  the  wax  candles.  The 
centre  of  observation  was  of  course  the  bride.  She  was 
of  such  commanding  presence  that  the  pretty  Mr.  Creston, 
with  his  weak  face  and  slender  shoulders,  seemed  scarcely 
noticeable  at  her  side. 

"  How  pale  she  looks  !  "  said  Bertha  Wing,  who  sat  with 
Mr.  Rukely,  at  Charlotte's  left  hand.  "  What  a  strange 
brightness  in  her  eye  !  " 

Hector  turned  with  a  smile  which  sent  the  blood  tingling 
to  her  cheeks. 

"  She  is  taking  her  last  look  at  her  bright  ideal,  Bertha. 
Or  perhaps  the  phantoms  of  old-time  lovers  are  flitting 
between  her  and  the  light." 

Bertha,  troubled :  "  She  will  be  happier  when  it  is  all 
over." 

Hector  :  "  So  you  may  say  of  a  drowning  man  ! " 


THE   WEDDING  143 

Mr.  Rukely  mildly  :  "  Let  us  have  charity  ! " 

Hector :  "  Amen,  with  all  my  heart  !  Yet  it  stirs  the 
gall  within  me  to  see  a  woman,  capable  of  loving,  desecrate 
the  sanctity  of  her  soul  by  mumbling  vows  with  one  utterly 
powerless  to  call  her  passion  out  !  " 

Bertha,  becoming  suddenly  pale  as  the  bride,  looked 
hastily  around,  to  see  if  the  remark  had  been  overheard. 
Mr.  liukely  smiled  benignly,  and,  making  a  sign  for  silence, 
directed  attention  to  the  ceremony. 

This  was  performed  by  a  staid  old  clergyman  of  the  vil 
lage,  who  married  the  happy  couple  fast  and  strong,  and 
blessed  the  union.  Congratulations  and  kisses  followed ; 
and  at  length  refreshments  were  introduced,  —  jellies,  nuts, 
coffee,  and  several  kinds  of  costly  cake,  all  very  fine  and 
very  indigestible,  together  with  a  feast  of  reason,  to  which 
the  company  was  invited  by  the  bridegroom's  uncle.  This 
was  Squire  Greenwich,  a  village  justice  ;  a  wrinkle-browed, 
snuff-taking,  old-fashioned  individual,  with  a  wise  grimace, 
spectacles,  and  stiff  iron-gray  hair  stuck  up  all  over  his  head. 

"My  daughter  Etty,"  said  he,  enunciating  with  slow 
precision,  "  has  prepared  a  poetical  address,  appropriate  to 
the  occasion,  which  she  will  proceed  to  deliver.  Etty  ! " 

A  girl  of  thirteen,  with  a  large  forehead  and  great  eyes, 
supposed  to  be  a  genius,  stepped  forward  promptly. 

"  It's  all  her  own  composition,"  remarked  the  child's 
mother,  by  way  of  prologue.  "  She  wrote  it  without  any 
assistance." 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich,"  interrupted  her  husband,  with  lofty 
disapprobation,  "  I  am  talking  now !  Daughter !  "  raising 
his  hand,  "  one,  two,  three,  —  begin  !  " 

At  the  word,  Etty  rattled  away,  like  a  militia  company 
firing  at  command,  with  a  volley  of  blank  verses  levelled  at 
the  newly  married  pair. 

Mother  parenthetically  :  "  Not  quite  so  fast,  daughter." 

Father  severely  :  "  I'll  dictate,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  Green 
wich  !  " 


144  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

The  lady  nodded  deferentially.  Etty  went  on,  holding 
her  hands  stiffly  folded  across  her  lap,  and  looking  down, 
as  if  reciting  to  the  carpet.  The  substance  of  the  poem 
was,  that  the  happy  pair  were  a  strong  oak  and  a  graceful 
vine  yoked  together  in  the  car  of  matrimony,  and  sailing 
over  a  sapphire  ocean,  in  a  little  Eden  of  their  own,  full  of 
flowery  fountains,  rainbows,  the  prodigal  son,  and  the  wise 
virgins  with  oil  in  their  lamps.  Quite  a  round  of  applause 
greeted  the  conclusion. 

"  I  want  you  all  to  understand,"  said  the  mother  of  the 
genius,  "  that  the  poem  was  composed  in  one  hour  and 
forty  minutes  "  — 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich  !     I  was  about  to  speak  !  " 

Mrs.  G.  meekly  :   "  Oh,  certainly  !  " 

Mr.  G. :   "  Daughter  !  " 

Young  genius  prettily  :  "  What,  father  ?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  recite  the  last  part  again,  commencing  at 
the  line,  t  There  Flora  spreads,'  and  let  your  voice  rise  at 
'spangled  groves.'  Slowly  and  distinctly." 

Encouraged  by  the  praises  already  bestowed,  Etty  re 
peated  the  concluding  lines  with  improved  confidence,  and 
won  additional  applause.  The  bride,  who  had  borne  up 
under  the  infliction  with  smiling  patience,  thanked  the 
little  prodigy  for  her  compliments  and  good  wishes,  and 
asked  for  a  copy  of  the  verses. 

"  A  copy  for  me,  too,  Etty,"  said  the  bridegroom. 

Blushing  bridesmaid  :  "  I  speak  for  a  copy  ! " 

Two  or  three,  in  a  breath  :  "  Me,  too,  Etty  !  " 

Chorus  of  voices  :  "  Wonderful  genius  !  "  —  "  Be-e-e-eau- 
tiful !  "  —  «  Sweet  pretty  !  "  —  "  Ought  to  be  printed  !  " 

Squire  Greenwich :  "Daughter,  what  have  you  got  to  say?" 

Young  genius,  ready  with  a  speech:  "I  thank  you  all 
very  kindly  for  your  good  opinion  "  — 

Mrs.  Greenwich,  in  a  whisper :  "  Go  on,  —  what  is  it 
about  talents?" 

"  If  God  has  seen  fit  to  endow  me  with  talents,  I  ought 


THE   WEDDING  145 

not  to  take  any  credit  to  myself,  but  show  my  gratitude  by 
trying  to  make  a  good  use  of  them.  At  the  same  time,  I 
trust  my  friends  will  be  less  ready  to  praise  than  to  tell 
me  of  my  faults." 

More  applause.  Little  prodigy's  head  quite  turned. 
Mrs.  G.  excited  and  silly.  Mr.  G.  prosy  on  the  subject  of 
his  daughter's  talents. 

Bertha,  holding  Etty's  hand  :  "  Come  and  see  me,  and 
I'll  give  you  a  pretty  subject  for  a  poem." 

Hector  :  "  Come  and  see  me,  and  I'll  give  you  —  well, 
not  a  subject  for  a  poem." 

Young  genius  :  "  I  suppose  you  do  not  like  my  poetry, 
then." 

"  My  child,"  said  Hector,  kindly  drawing  her  towards 
him,  "  I  like  you,"  he  dropped  his  voice,  "  much  better 
than  I  like  your  verses.  You  can  afford  to  let  me  say 
so  much,  can't  you,  since  everybody  else  is  praising 
them  ?  You  said  your  friends  were  to  tell  you  of  your 
faults  ;  and  if  you  would  like  to  have  me  mention  one  little 
one,  to  begin  with  " 

The  genius  repulsed  him  peevishly,  and  went  pouting  to 
her  mother. 

Mrs.  G.  resentfully  :  "  What  have  you  been  saying  to 
her  ?  " 

Hector  smiled.  "  The  truth,  simply.  Is  she  so  unac 
customed  to  the  taste  that  it  bites  her  tongue  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  —  «  Too  bad  ! "  —  "  Wasn't  it  mean  ?  "  —  murmurs 
of  sympathy  for  the  child,  and  of  disapprobation  of  Hec 
tor,  especially  from  those  who  experienced  a  secret  joy  at 
the  young  prodigy's  discomfiture. 

"  And  you,  Charlotte,  —  you  blame  me  with  the  rest  ?  " 

"  Were  you  not  a  little  cruel  ?  "  said  Charlotte. 

"  Charlotte,"  a  deep  emotion  struggled  in  Hector's  voice, 
"  I  could  endure  that  every  person  here  to-night  should 
misjudge  me,  malign  me,  think  me  ill-natured  and  egotis 
tical,  except  you  !  " 


146  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

The  young  girl  felt  a  joyous  thrill.  Why  was  it  ?  Had 
she  not  believed  and  preached  to  her  poor  heart,  night  and 
day,  that  there  was,  there  could  be,  no  one  single  slenderest 
tie  of  sympathy  between  her  and  Hector  ? 

"  I  was  cruel,"  said  he,  «  because  I  would  be  kind.  And, 
believe  me,  to  wound  the  poor  child's  feelings  as  I  did  was 
the  hardest  thing  I  have  had  to  do  for  weeks,  —  except 
when  I  have  so  often  wounded  yours  !  " 

"  You  thought  it  necessary  to  give  me  pain  ?  " 

"  Yes,  —  and  no.  I  cannot  explain  now.  I  have  wronged 
you  !  Not  so  much  in  my  acts  as  in  my  thoughts.  I  have 
so  much  to  say  to  you !  " 

Charlotte  could  not  speak  one  word.  She  could  not  raise 
her  eyes.  The  sound  of  Mr.  Eukely's  voice  recalled  her  to 
herself.  He  had  taken  Hector's  place  at  her  side.  But  his 
words  rustled  merely,  and  fell  away  from  her  like  husks. 
He  left  her  to  give  room  to  others.  Already  her  rare 
graces  had  made  her  the  centre  of  an  admiring  circle. 
She  was  glad  when  the  arrival  of  an  unexpected  guest 
occasioned  a  whirl  of  interest,  which  left  her,  for  a  mo 
ment,  free  to  follow  her  own  thoughts. 

Her  mind  was  with  Hector.  Amid  all  the  throng  and 
buzz  she  saw  his  form  and  heard  the  music  of  his  voice 
alone.  Until  ONE  came  between  her  and  him.  It  was  the 
new  guest.  She  saw  the  two  shake  hands  with  a  certain 
freedom  which  betokened  familiar  acquaintance.  She  saw 
the  new  face,  she  heard  the  new  voice,  she  felt  the  new 
presence,  with  a  sudden,  overwhelming  shock.  What  fol 
lowed  she  hardly  knew,  until  she  found  herself  in  the  dress 
ing-room,  whither  she  had  instinctively  fled. 

It  was  a  small  room,  with  a  bed  at  one  side,  covered  with 
bonnets  and  shawls,  and  a  bureau  opposite,  on  which  there 
was  a  lamp  burning  dimly  in  the  gloom.  All  unnerved  and 
trembling  she  sank  upon  a  chair.  But  a  rustling  beside 
her  warned  her  that  she  was  not  alone.  Among  the  gar 
ments  thrown  upon  the  bed  an  object  moved,  arose,  and 


THE  WEDDING  147 

turned  upon  her  a  child's  face,  with  eyes  that  shone  large 
and  red  and  swollen  in  the  dull  light  of  the  lamp.  It  was 
Etty,  the  genius. 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ?  "  she  asked  timidly. 

Charlotte  controlled  as  well  as  she  could  the  agitation  of 
her  heart,  and  said  kindly,  "  Have  I  seen  whom  ?  " 

"  My  brother  Robert.  I  had  been  crying ;  and  he  always 
used  to  dislike  me  when  I  cried,  so  I  ran  in  here.  He  has 
been  away  a  year ;  and  I  have  wanted  him  to  come  home 
so  much  !  But  lie  won't  care  to  see  me,  —  do  you  think  he 
will  ?  » 

The  child  seemed  to  cling  to  Charlotte  for  sympathy  and 
help.  She  was  a  child  indeed  then.  The  genius  and  the 
prodigy  had  disappeared.  The  shell  of  affectation  in  which 
her  young  nature  was  cased  was  burst  by  the  swelling  of 
her  heart. 

"  Yes,"  Charlotte  said,  "  I  am  sure  he  will  be  glad  to 
see  you,  —  if  he  is  your  brother." 

"  But  he  never  answered  my  letters,  and  I  wrote  him 
such  long  ones,  and  took  so  much  pains  with  them  !  I 
wish  you  would  go  out  with  me  to  see  him." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  that  would  do  no  good  !  All  your  friends  are 
out  there  ;  and  I  —  I  am  a  stranger  to  all  of  you,  you 
know." 

"  I  don't  care ;  you  don't  seem  so.  I'd  rather  you  would 
go  with  me  than  mother  or  father  or  any  of  them.  I 
can't  tell  wky,  but  you  make  me  feel  so." 

Charlotte  took  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  pressed  her  close. 

"  You  are  a  good  girl,"  said  she ;  "  and  I'm  sure  your 
brother  can't  help  loving  you,  if  you  are  always  simple  and 
true." 

"  He  says  I  am  so  odd  !  " 

"  Perhaps  that  is  because  you  try  too  hard  to  be  a  lady, 
and  are  not  enough  a  child.  But  no  matter  now.  Go  out 
and  see  him.  And  —  would  you  be  afraid  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Dunbury  ?  " 


148  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  He  didn't  like  my  poetry  ! "  said  the  child  quickly. 

"  Perhaps  the  fault  was  as  much  in  your  poetry  as  in 
him,"  suggested  Charlotte. 

"  I  know  it  was  !  They  were  silly  lines,  and  I  never 
will  write  any  more  as  long  as  I  live  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  will  write  more,  —  and  write  a  great  deal 
better  for  what  he  told  you.  I  know  he  meant  it  kindly." 

"  I  will  speak  to  him,  if  you  wish  me  to,"  said  Etty. 

"  And  say  that  I  am  here,  and  would  like  to  see  him." 

The  child  was  glad  to  do  anything  to  oblige  her  new 
friend  ;  and  having  dried  her  eyes,  and  made  Charlotte 
tell  her  again  that  her  brother  would  be  glad  to  see  her, 
she  went  timidly  forth. 

Left  to  her  own  thoughts,  Charlotte  endeavored  to  be 
calm.  She  felt  a  powerful  impulse  to  tell  Hector  every 
thing,  throw  herself  upon  his  mercy,  and  then,  if  he  cast 
her  from  him  —  cast  her  from  him  !  The  thought  chilled 
her ;  and  when  at  length  she  heard  a  hand  on  the  latch, 
she  shrank  within  herself,  and  would,  if  possible,  have  fled 
even  from  his  sight. 

But  the  comer  was  not  Hector.     It  was  Etty  again. 

"I  dropped  my  handkerchief,"  said  the  child,  getting 
down  to  look  for  it  on  the  floor. 

"  Here  it  is,  by  my  feet."  Charlotte  took  it  up,  and 
gave  it  her. 

Etty,  wiping  her  eyes  :  "  Thank  you.  I  told  Mr.  Dun- 
bury,  and  he  said  he  would  come.  I  saw  Robert  too ;  but 
he  only  just  looked  at  me,  and  went  on  talking  and  laugh 
ing  with  the  rest,  as  if  I  was  nobody  !  1  don't  care  now ! 
He  hates  me,  and  I  might  have  known  he  would." 

At  that  moment  Hector  entered.  Etty  tried  to  escape, 
but  he  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Do  you  dislike  me  very  much  for  what  I  said  ?  " 

She  hid  her  face  ;  and  Hector  kissed  her  forehead. 

"  I  believe  that  you  have  a  true  heart,  and  a  real  desire 
to  do  well,"  he  said  kindly.  "  You  must  be  patient  and 


THE   WEDDING  149 

humble,  and  aim  at  something  more  excellent  than  indis 
criminate  praise,  if  you  would  have  your  wings  grow  out 
beautiful  and  strong.  You  have  wings  ;  but,  oh,  you  only 
flutter  with  them  a  little  now,  instead  of  flying  into  the 
very  dome  of  heaven,  as  your  flatterers  would  have  you 
think.  This  is  what  I  wanted  to  say  to  you  ;  now,  if  you 
dislike  me  for  it,  I  am  very  sorry." 

Hector  kissed  her  again,  and  told  her  that  she  might  go. 
How  noble  and  good  he  seemed  to  Charlotte  then  !  Etty 
felt  comforted.  He  had  touched  a  chord  that  had  never 
been  touched  before. 

As  he  was  about  to  speak  again,  the  door  opened.  A 
qualm  smote  Charlotte's  heart  as  she  heard  once  more  the 
tones  of  that  dreaded  voice. 

"  Ah  !  here  is  the  fugitive  !  "  The  speaker  paused  at  the 
door.  Charlotte  felt  cold  from  head  to  foot.  But  she  did 
not  stir,  nor  raise  her  eyes,  nor  betray  any  sign  of  emotion, 
save  in  the  pallor  of  her  face.  "  I  beg  pardon  !  "  smiling 
and  bowing.  "  Is  that  you,  Hector  ?  Who  would  have 
thought  of  stumbling  upon  you  here  ?  I  suppose  I  ought 
to  know  that  lady  too  —  but  —  such  a  dim,  religious  light 
—  excuse  me  —  I  was  looking  for  that  choice  sister  of 
mine." 

He  patted  Etty's  cheek ;  his  keen  eyes  at  the  same 
time  glancing  at  Charlotte. 

"  We  have  just  been  getting  a  little  acquainted,"  said 
Hector,  giving  Etty  into  her  brother's  arms.  "She  is  too 
good  to  be  a  sister  of  yours." 

"  So  our  beloved  mother  says  !  She  thought  I  hurt  your 
feelings  just  now,  sis,  and  sent  me  to  ask  your  forgiveness." 

"  Oh,  no  —  you  did  not  " 

"  She  has  scolded  me,  too,  for  not  answering  your  letters. 
You  didn't  mind  that,  though ;  for  you  knew  I  never 
liked  schoolgirl  compositions.  Come,  don't  pout !  I  was 
in  hopes  you  had  outgrown  your  odd  ways.  Is  this  lady 
your  friend  too  ?  " 


150  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

Etty,  struggling  from  him,  reached  the  door  and  escaped. 
He  followed  her,  pausing,  as  he  went,  to  apologize  once 
more  for  his  intrusion.  Then  Hector,  impatient,  closed  the 
door,  and  returned  to  Charlotte's  side. 

"  What  is  this  ?  Why  are  you  so  pale  ?  "  He  gave  her 
his  hand ;  hers  was  all  in  a  tremor.  "  Charlotte  !  what  can 
I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Take  me  home  —  let  me  see  no  one  —  say  that  I  am 
ill.  When  I  am  calm  I  will  tell  you.  Be  my  friend  — 
until  then  !  " 

"  Till  then,  and  forever  !  "  exclaimed  Hector.  "  Trust 
in  me.  Sit  here  till  I  come  back.  Courage,  dear  heart, 
courage ! " 

She  made  haste  to  find  her  things  and  put  them  on ;  and 
by  the  time  he  returned  she  was  ready  to  accompany  him. 
They  went  out  together  unobserved.  His  buggy  was  at  the 
door.  He  helped  her  in  ;  then,  seated  by  his  side,  with  the 
darkness  of  the  road  before  them,  the  lighted  windows 
behind,  and  the  silence  and  the  starlight  all  around,  the 
excitement  which  had  nerved  her  flight  subsided,  and  she 
sank  helpless  on  his  supporting  arm. 

At  length,  putting  his  arm  gently  away  :  "  How  incon 
sistent  I  must  appear  to  you  !  Still  you  have  patience  with 
me!" 

"Patience,  Charlotte?  For  weeks  I  have  studied  you 
with  jealous  eyes.  If  ever  soul  read  soul,  mine  has  read 
yours,  —  and  I  am  satisfied.  I  wronged  you  once,  as  I  told 
you.  You  had  slandered  yourself  in  my  ear  ;  and  it  was 
my  fortune  to  hear  an  evil  report,  that  I  construed  into  an 
interpretation  of  what  remained  unexplained  in  your  words. 
I  will  not  repeat  what  was  told  me  ;  I  am  ashamed  to  con 
fess  the  source  from  which  it  came ;  but,  Charlotte,  it  was 
by  the  strength  of  my  interest  in  you  that  I  became  so 
weak." 

"  Perhaps  you  were  not  weak  —  perhaps  you  saw  me  bet 
ter  then  than  you  do  now." 


THE   WEDDING  151 

"  Stop  !  "  said  Hector.  "  Xo  more  self-slander.  I  know 
you,  Charlotte.  By  treating  you  harshly,  by  appearing 
indifferent,  bitter,  disdainful,  I  have  discovered  the  depth 
and  sweetness  of  your  nature.  What  inward  conflicts  have 
heaved  and  torn  me  the  while  !  0  Charlotte,  if  you  knew  ! 
But  no  more  of  this.  I  see  you  crushed  to-night  beneath 
a  burden ;  let  me  first  take  that  away,  then  we  can  talk." 

"  Not  now  —  my  tongue  is  numb  !     To-morrow  " 

"To-morrow  we  may  have  no  opportunity.  I  expect 
company." 

"  Company  ?  " 

"  After  I  left  you  in  the  dressing-room,  Robert  Green 
wich  got  me  by  the  button,  and  told  me  he  would  try  to 
call  to-morrow  afternoon  ;  he  will  probably  be  with  us  at 
tea." 

Hector  went  on  talking,  but  Charlotte  heard  no  more. 
She  did  not  answer  when  he  spoke  to  her.  At  length  she 
repeated  vacantly,  "  At  tea  ?  Did  you  say  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Your  mind  is  on  some  other  subject.  Let  Robert 
Greenwich  go.  He  is  nothing  to  you  or  me  to-night." 

"  Did  he  —  did  he  speak  —  of  me  ?  " 

"  He  apologized  again  for  intruding  upon  us,  and  said  he 
hoped  to  meet  you  to-morrow." 

That  she  had  been  recognized  by  the  man  she  dreaded, 
Charlotte  could  no  longer  doubt.  She  tried  to  tell  Hector 
all  her  fear  and  despair ;  but  misgivings  chilled  her  heart, 
and  sealed  her  lips,  and  sent  her  to  her  lonely  room  that 
night  with  the  heavy  secret  of  her  life  still  pent  up  in  her 
soul. 


152  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XIII 
THE    VISIT    AND    THE    EXCURSION 

THE  next  morning  Abimelech  Jackwood  the  younger 
made  an  early  call  at  Mr.  Dunbury's  house.  He  found  the 
family  at  breakfast. 

"  Good-morning,  sir  ! "  cried  Hector.  "  Corny,  give  the 
young  gentleman  a  seat." 

"  Can't  stop ! "  said  Bim,  standing  bashfully  in  the  door. 
"  I  come  over  to  see  —  git  out,  Rover  !  —  if  Charlotte  don't 
wanter  go  up  on  the  hill  to-day  with  Pheeb." 

A  gleam  of  hope  shone  upon  Charlotte's  heart. 

«  To  see  Bertha  Wing  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  b'lieve  so.  Here,  Rove,  lay  down !  Pheeb's 
ben  lottin'  on  an  all-day  visit  up  there  's  ever  s'  long,  and 
she  said  you  'greed  to  go  with  her." 

"But  you  are  so  poorly  this  morning,  Charlotte,"  said 
Mrs.  Dunbury.  "  Conscientiously  as  you  have  endeavored 
to  eat,  you  have  scarcely  tasted  a  morsel." 

Hector :  "  And  we  are  to  have  company,  you  remember." 

"  But  I,"  said  Charlotte  quickly,  "  I  would  prefer  not 
to  meet  strangers.  I  should  enjoy  the  ride,  and  a  quiet 
visit  with  Phoebe  and  Bertha  " 

Mrs.  Dunbury :  "  Do  as  you  please,  then." 

Charlotte  glanced  at  Hector.  His  countenance  was  over 
cast,  but  he  raised  no  further  objection  to  the  plan;  and 
accordingly  word  was  sent  back  that  she  would  accompany 
Phoebe. 

Miss  Jackwood  made  her  appearance  in  the  one-horse 
wagon  at  about  nine  o'clock.  She  drove  old  Jake,  a  su- 


THE   VISIT  AND    THE  EXCURSION  153 

perannuated  nag  that  had  outlived  his  usefulness  on  the 
farm,  whom  she  found  it  necessary  continually  to  urge 
forward  by  means  of  a  little  stumpy  whip.  Arrived 
within  speaking  distance  of  Mr.  Dunbury's  gate,  the  sober 
animal  came  to  a  dead  halt.  "Go  'long!"  ejaculated 
Phoebe. 

Jake  did  not  stir.  Mortified  at  the  awkwardness  of  the 
circumstance,  occurring  at  a  moment  when  she  so  much  de 
sired  to  make  a  smart  appearance,  she  wielded  the  whip 
vigorously. 

The  first  blow  fell  short,  the  second  raised  a  dust  on  the 
horse's  rump,  and  the  third  made  him  whisk  his  tail  a 
little.  After  that  she  bent  forward,  and  laid  on,  and  spared 
not,  until,  starting  on  with  a  groan,  he  stopped  before  the 
gate. 

The  delay  had  given  Charlotte  time  to  put  on  her  bonnet ; 
and  she  now  came  out,  ready  for  the  ride. 

"I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't  go,"  said  Phoebe ;  "but  I  was 
feeling  so  vexed  about  the  wedding  last  night,  I  meant  to 
make  a  visit  somewhere  to-day,  anyway.  Bim  said  you 
expected  company.  Who's  coming  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Greenwich,  I  think." 

"  Not  Robert  ?  Has  he  got  home  ?  I  should  think  you'd 
like  to  stay  !  I'll  stay  with  you,  and  make  you  a  visit  to 
day,  if  you  want  me  to.  Or,  I'll  tell  you  what !  have  Rob 
ert  and  Hector  come  up  and  take  tea  with  us !  You  tell 
'em,  Mrs.  Dunbury  !  I  bet  they  will !  Won't  it  be  grand  ? 
Go  'long,  ol'  Jake !  I'm  ashamed  of  my  driving !  The 
calves  chawed  the  whip  to  pieces  t'other  night,  and  this  is 
all  there  is  left  of  it ;  and  Jake's  the  laziest  horse  !  Come, 
do  step  !  If  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Creston  git  invited  to 
my  wedding,  I  guess  they'll  know  it !  I'll  let  'em  under 
stand  one  thing  —  I  don't  care  if  I  wasn't  asked ;  it  hain't 
hurt  me  a  bit;  for  I  don't  consider  it  anything  worth  mind 
ing  at  all ! " 

Phoebe  seemed  so  desirous  of  enforcing  this  fact  upon 


154  NEIGHBOR  JACEWOOD 

her  companion's  mind,  that  she  never  ceased  to  chatter 
about  it  until  they  had  made  the  ascent  of  the  hill,  and 
arrived  at  Mr.  Wing's  house.  Charlotte  liked  that  topic  as 
well  as  any ;  all  she  wished  was,  that  Phoebe  should  do  the 
talking,  and  leave  her  to  her  own  thoughts. 

Bertha  received  her  visitors  cordially ;  Grandmother  Wing 
joining  to  give  them  a  hearty  welcome. 

"  Why,  how  you  have  altered  ! "  said  the  old  lady,  with 
smiling  good-nature,  to  Charlotte.  "  You've  smarted  up 
arnazin',  I  do  declare  !  I  knowed  't  was  in  ye  to  do  it  when 
I  spoke  for  you  to  Hector ;  but,  re'ly,  I'm  the  least  mite 
took  back  to  see  you  lookin'  so  very  nice  an'  handsome ! " 

Phoebe  had  brought  her  knitting;  Charlotte  had  some 
sewing ;  and  all  settled  quietly  down  to  work  and  talk 
and  visit,  until  near  dinner-time,  when  Bertha  went  out  to 
assist  the  kitchen  girl,  and  to  give  the  finishing  touch  to 
the  table. 

Just  as  they  were  sitting  down  to  the  noonday  meal, 
Mr.  Rukely  called,  and  sat  down  with  them.  Mr.  Wing 
was  also  present,  a  man  of  solemn  aspect  and  stiff  opinions, 
of  whom  his  daughter  Bertha  stood  very  much  in  awe. 

The  dinner  was  a  prim  and  formal  affair ;  everybody 
silent  or  restrained,  out  of  respect  to  the  minister,  only  the 
old  lady  indulging  in  a  little  geniality,  while  Phoebe  now 
and  then  burst  forth  with  some  refreshingly  spontaneous 
remark. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  girl  after  dinner,  "  I'm 
so  tired  of  behaving  well !  Do  le's  have  some  fun !  Mr. 
Eukely  will  excuse  us." 

Mr.  Eukely,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  an  annual :  "  Oh, 
certainly." 

Bertha  :  "  What  do  you  want  to  do  ?  " 

Phoebe,  throwing  down  her  knitting :  "  I  don't  care 
what ;  but  I  shall  die  if  I  don't  do  something ! " 

Charlotte :  "  If  we  take  a  walk,  perhaps  Mr.  Rukely  will 
accompany  us." 


THE   VISIT  AND    THE  EXCURSION  155 

Mr.  Rukely  :  "With  pleasure." 

Phoebe  :  "  Hooray  !  " 

Bertha  :  "  We'll  want  our  bonnets,  girls." 

Phoebe :  "  I'm  glad  you  spoke,  for  I  don't  know  half 
what  I  am  about !  May  we  be  wild,  Mr.  Rukely  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely  indulgently :  "  As  wild  as  you  please." 

Phoebe :  "  That's  good  !  When  we  get  out  of  sight  and 
hearing  once,  if  I  don't  scream !  Which  way  are  you 
going  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely :  «  Shall  we  take  the  road  ?  " 

Charlotte :  "  The  woods  will  be  pleasanter ;  the  road  is 
too  tame." 

Phoebe  :  "  Oh,  yes  !  we  can  chase  and  romp  in  the  woods, 
and  have  such  a  slick  time !  Mr.  Rukely  will  let  down 
the  bars  for  us.  What  do  you  say,  Bertha  ?  " 

Bertha :  "  Any  way  will  suit  me.  Only  don't  be  too 
rude,"  aside  to  Phoebe,  "  for  I  don't  know  just  what  he 
will  think." 

Phoebe  recklessly  :  "  Come  on !  I'll  be  cap'n  !  How 
good  it  feels  ou'  doors  !  I  want  to  fly !  Let's  go  'way  off 
on  the  mountain,  and  look  down  towards  our  house.  I 
wish  Hector  and  Rob  Greenwich  was  here !  Don't  you. 
girls  ?  If  we  had  a  spying-glass  we  might  see  'em !  It's 
so  mean  I  wa'n't  invited  to  the  wedding !  but  I'm  glad  of 
it  !  Don't  let's  go  through  the  briers." 

Bertha :  "  There's  a  path  somewhere.  Oh,  here  it  is ! 
'Twill  take  us  right  to  the  cedar  woods." 

Phoebe  ran  on  before,  talking  gayly.  Suddenly  she  flew 
back  with  terrified  cries. 

Bertha  :  "  Why,  what  —  what  is  it  ?  " 

Phoebe,  shudderingly  :  "  Ugh-h-h-h  !  A  gr-e-a-t  bi-i-ig 
sna-a-ake !  " 

Mr.  Rukely  smiling :  "  You  should  learn  to  overcome 
the  serpent."  Taking  up  a  stick  :  "  Where  is  he  ?  " 

Phoebe :  "  It  was  crawling  off  from  the  log.  I  should 
think  it  was  forty  or  fifty  feet  long ! " 


156  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Bertha:  "  Don't  go  near  it !  " 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  The  serpent  is  the  only  living  thing  I  feel 
in  duty  bound  to  hate,  abhor,  and  kill ! " 

He  advanced  resolutely.  Charlotte  turned  and  looked 
off  on  the  mountain  side.  Bertha  watched  her  lover 
tremblingly,  while  Phoebe  stood  ready  to  run  and  scream. 

Mr.  Rukely  paused,  lowering  his  stick ;  the  sternness  of 
his  features  relaxed  into  a  somewhat  pallid  smile,  and  he 
called  his  companions  to  advance. 

Phoebe  :  "  Is  it  gone  ?  " 

Bertha :  "  Have  you  killed  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely  lifted  something  with  his  stick.  Bertha  and 
Phoebe  shrieked  simultaneously. 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  I  did  not  know  before  that  log-chains 
were  so  formidable  ! "  He  dropped  the  clinking  links  upon 
the  ground.  Bertha  drew  a  long  breath,  and  tried  to  laugh. 

Phcebe,  excited :  "  But  there  was  a  snake ;  I  declare  I 
saw  one  !  I'm  as  sure  it  moved  as  I  am  that  I  stand  here. 
Oh,  dear  !  "  she  added,  as  the  party  proceeded  farther  into 
the  woods,  "  what  did  we  come  in  here  for  ?  These  cedars 
are  such  hateful  things  ! " 

Charlotte :  "  I  think  they  are  beautiful.  I  love  the 
gloom." 

Bertha  :  "  I  hope  you  don't  love  the  mosquitoes  !  I  am 
eaten  up  by  them  !  " 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  It  seems  to  me  we  are  going  into  a  swamp. 
The  air  is  close  and  sultry.  Shall  we  turn  about  ?  " 

Bertha :  "  There's  an  ox-path  somewhere,  that  branches 
off  towards  the  fields.  I  believe  this  is  it,  though  it  looks 
dreadfully  wild  and  lonely  !  " 

Phoebe  :  "  It  seems  like  Sunday  in  here  !  Let's  get  out 
of  it !  Mercy !  how  I  am  bitten  !  Oh,  what  noise  was 
that  ?  Seeing  that  horrid  snake  makes  me  nervous  as  I 
can  be  !  Every  stick  is  a  snake  now ;  and  I  have  heard  a 
dozen  wildcats  since  we  came  in  here.  You  go  ahead,  Mr. 
Rukely.  We'll  follow,  if  it  is  to  the  jumping-off  place  ! " 


THE  VISIT  AND  THE  EXCURSION  157 

The  party  came  out  upon  a  high  pasture-land.  Farther 
on  was  a  deep  gulf,  defended  by  impenetrable  thick  growths 
of  bristling  poplars  and  young  spruces,  and  overhung  by  a 
precipitous  crag. 

Phoebe :  "  Hooray  for  a  climb,  I  say !  We  can  see  all 
over  creation  from  up  there.  Who'll  be  at  the  top  first  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely  and  Bertha  recoiled  from  the  enterprise ;  but 
Charlotte,  eager  to  lose  herself  in  any  excitement,  seconded 
Phoebe,  and  the  party  made  the  ascent  of  the  crag. 

Bertha  :  "  All  this  part  of  the  mountain  was  overrun  by 
fire  a  few  years  ago.  Look  off  in  the  valley  now." 

Charlottte  :   "  Wonderful  !  " 

Phoebe  :  "  I  can  see  our  house  ;  and  there's  Bim  driving 
the  cows  to  water  !  They  look  like  so  many  black  ants,  and 
he  like  a  little  red  one  ! " 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  The  season  has  been  so  dry  that  the 
country  has  lost  half  its  beauty.  How  dead  the  forests 
down  there  appear  !  Besides,  there  is  too  much  smoke  in 
the  air  to-day." 

Charlotte :  "  The  smoke  has  a  beauty  of  its  own.  It  gives 
such  a  soft  blue  tint  to  everything.  How  still  and  sweet 
the  valley  lies  in  the  dim  sunshine !  The  smoke  is  the  soul 
of  the  landscape  to-day." 

Bertha  :  "  What  a  ghastly  sky !  The  sun  is  blood-red. 
Was  that  thunder  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely  :  "  I  see  no  clouds.  Perhaps  the  money-dig 
gers  are  blasting  again  on  the  Eagle  Rocks." 

Phoebe  :  "  I  thought  I  saw  Rob  Greenwich  and  Hector ; 
but  it  is  only  a  couple  of  horses  fighting  flies  by  the  fence. 
Let's  roll  down  rocks.  Here  goes  one  ! "  The  missile 
dropped  from  ledge  to  ledge,  and  leaped  among  the  crack 
ling  thickets  below.  "  Did  you  hear  it  ?  0  Mr.  Rukely, 
help  me  tumble  off  this  big  one  !  Where's  a  pry  ?  "  picking 
up  a  charred  sapling.  "  There,  I've  got  my  hands  all  black  ! 
Never  mind.  Give  me  a  lift !  " 

Mr.  Rukely  condescended,  and  a  minute  later  the  loos- 


158  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

ened  rock,  toppling  on  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  turned  lazily 
at  first,  then  rolled,  then  bounded,  then  thundered  and 
plunged,  snapping  and  trampling  the  brittle  young  poplars, 
until  the  noise  of  its  crashing  died  away  in  the  depths  of 
the  gulf. 

There  was  something  startling  in  this  invasion  of  na 
ture's  solitudes  with  violence  and  unusual  sounds.  Phoebe, 
excited  by  the  sport,  detained  Mr.  Eukely,  to  set  off  an 
other  flying  rock,  while  Charlotte  and  Bertha  found  an  easy 
place  of  descent,  and  went  down  from  the  crag. 

"  I  hear  the  trickling  of  water,"  said  Charlotte ;  "  but  we 
can  neither  reach  nor  see  it,  for  the  thickets.  I  am  thirsty, 
and  my  forehead  and  hands  are  hot." 

"The  gulf  opens  below  here,"  replied  Bertha,  "and  a 
brook  runs  out  into  the  maple  grove,  down  yonder.  Hark ! 
There  goes  another  stone." 

"Happy  Phoebe  !  See  her  clap  her  hands,  on  the 
ledge." 

"  But,  while  she  laughs,  you  hardly  smile,  Charlotte. 
And  I  sympathize  most  with  you.  How  I  have  wanted  to 
be  your  friend,  and  to  have  you  mine  !  Let  us  go  down 
into  the  ravine  here,  and  be  true  and  free  with  each  other 
once." 

"  They  are  coming ! " 

"We  will  hide  away  from  them.  Oh,  see  where  the 
brook  drips  over  the  rocks !  How  cool  it  is  down  there  ! 
If  we  can  get  through  the  bushes  "  — 

"  We  can,"  said  Charlotte.     "  Here  is  an  opening." 

"  You  will  fall ! "  cried  Bertha.  "  Let  me  hold  your 
hand  until  you  get  your  foot  firmly  upon  the  rock.  I've 
torn  my  dress ;  but  we  are  through  the  worst  of  it  now. 
What  delicious  beds  of  moss  !  The  brook  is  almost  dry, 
and  we  can  go  down  these  rocky  steps  until  we  come  to  the 
grove." 

"  Let  us  sit  here,  and  rest,  and  bathe  our  foreheads," 
replied  Charlotte. 


THE   VISIT  AND    THE  EXCURSION  159 

"  Let  me  bathe  yours  for  you.  But  it  is  not  bathing 
that  will  cure  the  pain.  There  is  a  fever  which  only  tears 
can  cool.  I  know  from  experience." 

"  You,  Bertha  ?     You,  so  fortunate  and  happy  !  " 

"  0  Charlotte,  you  do  not  know  me !  Fortunate  and 
happy,  with  this  weak,  inconsistent  heart  of  mine  !  Dear, 
dear,  dear  !  " 

"Hark!     Phoebe  is  calling  us,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  Do  not  answer.  It  is  a  relief  to  get  away  from  them 
for  a  little  while.  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

"  My  head  feels  better.  How  kind  you  are,  Bertha ! 
There  is  a  magnetism  in  your  hand  that  removes  the 
pain." 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  be  your  friend  ! "  said  Bertha. 

"  Bertha,  good  Bertha,  I  have  not  a  friend  in  this  wide, 
wide  world  !  I  know  not  one,  not  one  whom  I  can  trust." 

"  Not  even  me  ! "  said  Bertha. 

Her  sympathy  wrought  powerfully  upon  Charlotte,  who 
opened  her  heart  to  her  more  and  more,  and  appeared 
almost  ready  to  pour  out  to  her  the  whole  history  of  her 
life. 

Mr.  Kukely,  from  above  :  "  You  are  pretty  truants  !  We 
have  called  and  hunted  for  you  everywhere.  It  is  going 
to  rain." 

Bertha  :  "  Will  you  share  our  shelter  with  us  ?  " 

Phoebe :  "  Oh,  le's !  I  want  to  wash  the  crock  off  my 
hands." 

Mr.  Rukely  :  "  You  are  responsible  if  we  get  wet." 

Bertha:  "We  can  go  down  through  the  maple  grove, 
then  return  home  by  the  lower  pasture,  and  avoid  the 
swamp." 

Phoebe  :  "  And  the  mosquitoes  and  snakes  !     So  le's  !  " 

"Another  time,"  whispered  Bertha,  pressing  Charlotte's 
hand. 

The  party  descended  through  the  ravine,  stepping  upon 
decayed  logs,  mossy  banks  and  stones,  and  rocks  incrusted 


160  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

with  dry  slime.  At  length  the  bushes  and  saplings  gave 
place  to  the  tall  trunks  of  maples  and  beeches,  and  in  a 
convenient  spot  they  climbed  up  into  the  grove. 

"  Why,  how  dark  it  is ! "  cried  Phoebe.  "  Oh,  come 
here  !  See  through  the  trees !  What  a  frightful  cloud  ! 
Don't  it  look  awful  through  the  smoke !  I'm  glad  I  ain't 
a  Millerite  !  Did  you  hear  that  gun  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely  :  "  There's  somebody  hunting,  just  over 
the  hill." 

Phoebe  :  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  'twas  Kobert  and  Hec 
tor.  Wait,  while  I  screech !  " 

Charlotte  eagerly :  "  Don't,  don't,  Phoebe  !    Keep  still ! " 

«  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  we'll  spoil  their  sport.  Besides,  I  —  I  don't 
think  it  can  be  Hector.  He  never  shoots." 

"  He  used  to ;  and  I  bet  he  wouldn't  object  if  Rob 
Greenwich  should  coax  him  !  Eob  used  to  be  crazy  about 
hunting,  and  the  squirrels  are  thick  now." 

Bertha :  "  It  will  do  no  harm  to  shout." 

"No,  no,  Bertha  !  Let  us  go  back.  The  darkness 
frightens  me."  And  Charlotte  set  out  to  hurry  from  the 
grove. 

Phoebe :  "  Here  !  where  are  you  going  ?  That  ain't  the 
way." 

"  Tell  me,  then.  Let  us  hasten !  The  storm  will  be 
upon  us  ! " 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  We  shall  get  wet,  most  certainly.  What 
is  that  ?  A  shanty  ?  " 

Bertha  :  "  It  is  a  shelter  for  the  men  when  they  work  in 
the  sugar-bush.  There's  the  great  trough,  and  the  arch  for 
boiling.  Shall  we  go  in  and  wait  till  the  shower  passes  ?  " 

The  proposition  was  favorably  received  by  all  except 
Charlotte.  She  would  have  hastened  from  the  woods. 
But  already  the  big  raindrops  began  to  fall,  rattling  and 
hissing  among  the  leaves.  Phoebe  ran  screaming  to  the 
shanty,  swinging  her  bonnet  in  her  hand. 


THE  VISIT  AND   THE  EXCURSION  161 

"  Come,  Charlotte,"  said  Bertha.  "  Why  are  you  afraid  ? 
The  shower  will  soon  pass ;  then  we  will  go  home  to 
gether." 

"  Well,  as  you  please." 

"  I  know  now  what  troubles  you,  Charlotte.  It  is  what  I 
feared  for  you.  It  was  almost  inevitable.  Everybody  loves 
him." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  His  voice,  his  manner,  the  clear  splendor  of  his  face," 
said  Bertha,  with  a  swelling  heart ;  "  everything  about  him 
fascinates  !  I  pity  you  !  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  —  you  are  speaking  of  " 

"  Hector !  " 

"  From  your  own  experience  ? "  said  Charlotte,  with 
feverish  interest. 

"  Oh,  no,  —  not  much  !  I  have  known  him  all  my  life. 
I  do  not  think  he  is  a  flirt,  but  he  is  peculiar.  He  loves  to 
exert  his  power ;  and  it  is  his  way  to  say  and  do  and  look 
the  most  winning  things,  without  really  meaning  them. 
That's  the  danger.  Then  he  is  so  fitful !  He  keeps  one 
in  suspense.  Let  me  warn  you  in  season." 

"  There  is  no  need.  He  is  nothing  to  me,  nor  ever  can 
be,  Bertha.  But  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  advice,  the 
same." 

"  There  was  another  gun,"  cried  Bertha,  "  nearer  than 
before  !  Let  us  run.  See !  Mr.  Kukely  and  Phoebe  are 
already  in  the  cabin." 

Charlotte  glanced  wildly  in  the  direction  of  the  report. 
At  that  moment  a  sudden  lightning-flash  filled  all  the 
woods  with  an  instantaneous  fearful  glare,  and  the  burst 
ing  thunder  followed,  crashing  down  the  sky,  and  tum 
bling  from  height  to  height  along  the  mountain  range. 


162  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XIV 

THE    HUNTERS 

TREMBLING  and  breathless,  Charlotte,  following  her  com 
panions,  reached  the  shelter  just  as  the  rain  began  to  rush 
and  rattle  among  the  trees. 

"  Stand  here,"  cried  Phoebe,  "  and  look  out  when  it 
lightens  !  How  wild  and  dark  the  woods  are  !  I'm  about 
three-quarters  scart." 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  Here  are  plenty  of  sap-buckets  to  sit 
down  upon,  if  you  like.  Be  careful  —  the  roof  slants." 

Phoebe  :  "  I  give  my  head  an  awful  tunk  in  there  !  Then 
I  walked  backwards,  and  set  down  in  that  big  iron  kittle. 
I  guess  my  dress  will  look  pretty  !  Didn't  you  hear  me 
yell  ?  " 

Charlotte  :  "  I'm  afraid  of  scorpions." 

Bertha  :  "  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  ?  " 

Phoebe  :  "  0-o-oh  !  did  you  see  that  flash  ?  There  come 
the  hunters  !  It's  Hector  and  Robert,  just  as  I  told  you. 
They've  got  a  lot  of  squirrels  ! " 

"  0  Bertha  ! "  whispered  Charlotte,  « tell  me  what  to  do  ! 
I  cannot  meet  them  !  Why  did  I  come  in  here  ?  " 

"  Shall  I  conceal  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  can  you  ?  " 

"  Get  back  into  the  corner.     I  will  sit  before  you." 

"  No ;  I  will  not  be  so  weak !  It  must  come ;  I  will 
meet  it  now  !  " 

The  shanty  was  dark ;  and  Hector  and  Robert,  entering, 
did  not  readily  recognize  the  inmates. 

Robert,  pulling  somebody's  bonnet  from  her  face  :    "  This 


THE  HUNTERS  163 

is  Phoebe  Jackwood.  I  knew  your  scream  when  we  were 
over  the  hill.  Hello !  if  you  bite,  you  shall  have  your  teeth 
taken  out." 

"  You  sha'n't  kiss  me,  Rob  Greenwich  !    If  you  do  " 

"  I  wasn't  going  to.  But  I  see  you'll  be  disappointed 
now  if  I  don't !  " 

"Hector!  Hector!  help!" 

Hector :  "  Fight  your  own  battles.  Who  is  here  ?  Bertha 
and  Charlotte !  This  is  an  unlooked-for  good  fortune." 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  You  have  met  with  eminent  success  gun 
ning,  I  see.  You  should  be  proud  of  those  trophies." 

Hector  threw  down  his  game.  "  Oh,  to  be  sure  !  How 
glorious  are  the  faculties  of  man  !  What  divine  recrea 
tions  enchant  us  !  Proud  ?  I  am  as  proud  as  poor  Tray 
was  when  whipped  for  keeping  bad  company." 

Robert :  "  I  am  the  bad  company,  I  suppose.  I  led  poor 
Tray  into  wickedness.  But,  once  in,  he  beat  me  at  my  own 
game.  He  is  two  squirrels  my  superior  in  cruelty." 

Hector  :  "  I  didn't  think  that  I  should  ever  again  take 
delight  in  shooting  these  pretty  fan-tails.  They  run  up 
the  great  trunks  ;  they  jump  from  branch  to  branch ;  they 
chatter  ;  they  curve  their  fine  tails ;  they  sit  and  nibble 
nuts  on  the  high  limbs.  Is  there  nothing  to  win  us  in  all 
that  ?  Up  goes  the  deadly  gun,  and  this  wonderful  slender 
casket,  which  holds  the  divine  secret  of  existence,  instinct, 
happiness,  falls  broken  at  your  feet.  There  it  is ;  look  at 
it !  It  is  in  form  the  same  as  ever,  but  all  the  ingenuity  of 
murderous  man  cannot  restore  the  plundered  jewel." 

Robert :   "  Oh,  brave  and  eloquent  harangue  ! " 

Hector  turned  over  his  game.  "  Two,  four,  six,  —  I  killed 
them  all !  It  is  a  trifle,  perhaps  ;  but  such  a  trifle  teaches 
me  that  I  am  no  more  proof  against  temptation  than  pow 
der  is  proof  against  fire  ;  that  I  am  made  of  the  very  same 
stuff  as  thieves,  robbers,  and  all  sorts  of  ill-doers  ;  and  that 
only  circumstance  and  provocation  have  been  wanting  to 
develop  me  into  as  complete  a  villain  as  the  world  knows." 


164  NEIGHBOR  JACEWOOI) 

"  And  what  of  all  this  ?  " 

"  What  of  all  this  ?  Charity,  sir,  charity !  Give  me  your 
hand,  Robert.  I  can  grasp  it  more  heartily  than  I  have 
been  able  to  do  of  late.  Is  there  another  chief  of  sinners 
present  ?  I  will  embrace  him  !  " 

"  I  declare,  Hector  Dunbury !  "  exclaimed  Phcebe,  "  one 
would  think  you  was  crazy  !  " 

"  You  may  think  so ;  but  Bertha  does  not,  and  Charlotte 
does  not !  Excuse  me,  Robert.  I  should  have  introduced 
you  to  our  friend." 

And,  with  affected  formality,  Hector  went  through  with 
the  neglected  ceremony.  Robert  bowed  with  easy  polite 
ness.  Pale  and  cold,  but  outwardly  composed,  Charlotte 
acknowledged  the  salutation. 

"  This  is  a  romantic  spot  to  make  an  acquaintance,"  said 
he ;  "  but  we  might  have  met  under  stranger  circumstances," 
he  added  with  peculiar  emphasis  ;  "  so  let  us  not  stand 
upon  etiquette,  but  be  friends  at  once.  Shall  I  occupy  this 
bucket  by  your  side  ?  " 

Holding  her  heart  with  all  her  might,  Charlotte  bowed 
again,  and  Robert  sat  down. 

"Do  not  be  alarmed,"  said  he,  in  a  significant  tone. 
"Hector  insinuates  that  I  am  quite  a  formidable  sinner; 
but  we  all  know  him." 

"  No,  you  don't !  "  cried  Hector.  "  And  you  never  will, 
Robert  Greenwich,  until  we  some  day  quarrel  royally,  and 
thenceforward  stand  to  each  other  for  precisely  what  we 
are." 

"  Quarrel !  you  and  I  ?  Oh,  Damon  and  Pythias  !  "  said 
Robert,  "  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Hector  turned  to  Mr.  Rukely  :  "  Explain,  if  you  can,  my 
relation  to  that  good-natured  Beelzebub." 

Robert  gayly :  "  This  is  his  peculiar  style  of  joking.  He 
is  marvellously  funny,  if  you  only  understand  him.  '  Good- 
natured  Beelzebub  '  is  good  !  " 

"  I  have  no  sympathy  whatever  with  his  politics,  religion, 


THE  UUNTEES  165 

or  morals ;  our    spirits  are    entirely  antagonistic ;  still  he 
holds  me,  or  I  him,  by  a  power  I  cannot  comprehend." 

Robert  laughed  immoderately. 

"  The  truth  is  this :  I  was  with  him  in  days  of  tempta 
tion;  I  watched  over  him  with  a  shepherd's  care,  and 
brought  him  every  night,  like  a  tender  lamb,  into  the  fold 
of  virtue.  Hence  the  tie  between  us." 

And  he  turned  aside  to  Charlotte. 

"  What  is  he  whispering  to  you  ?  "  demanded  Hector. 

Robert  laid  his  fingers  upon  Charlotte's  arm.  "  Keep  my 
secret,  and  I  will  keep  yours  !  " 

Charlotte,  with  an  effort :  "  You  see,  my  lips  are  sealed." 

Hector  regarded  her  with  a  questioning  look,  and  turned 
his  head  slowly  away. 

Robert  laughed  again.     "  That's  another  of  his  jokes,  — 
in  his  best  style  !     What  a  glance  that  was  ;  as  much  as  to 
say,  M  have  warned  you  ;  look  out  for  him.' ' 

Phoebe  impatiently  :  "  Come,  do  say  something  sensible  ! 
I  am  sure  I  can't  see  any  fun  in  such  talk.  It  don't  rain 
now  ;  le's  go  out." 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  The  storm  has  passed  around  to  the 
north." 

Robert  smiled  significantly,  bending  slightly  towards 
Charlotte. 

"  It  has  been  the  way  of  storms  this  season,  I  am  told. 
They  have  a  northerly  tendency  ;  they  are  attracted  by  the 
higher  latitudes.  Don't  you  think  the  Green  Mountains 
delightful,  Miss  Woods  ?  " 

Charlotte's  features  contracted,  as  she  shrank  involun 
tarily  from  her  tormentor.  His  keen  eye  watched  her  face, 
while  his  tongue  repeated  the  question. 

"  I  might  think  so,  if  it  were  not  for  the  snakes  ! "  she 
answered  curtly. 

Robert,  with  an  unconscious  air  :  "  But  our  Vermont 
snakes  are  quite  harmless  if  you  treat  them  well." 

Bertha  :  "  Harmless  as  log-chains,  Phoebe  !     Come,  the 


166  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

sky  is  brightening ;  shall  we  go  ?  Hector  and  Robert  are 
expected  to  be  of  our  party,  and  take  tea  with  us." 

Hector  :   "  We  have  our  squirrels  and  guns  to  carry." 

Mr.  Rukely  :  "  You  can  send  them  home  in  Phoebe's 
wagon." 

Robert :  "  That  will  be  capital !  Shall  I  have  the  pleas 
ure  of  your  company,  Miss  Woods  ?  " 

Phoebe,  elated :  "  It  all  happens  just  right !  Le'  me 
carry  a  gun  !  " 

Hector :  "  You'll  be  shooting  some  one.  If  you  have  any 
regard  for  human  life,  Robert,  keep  your  rifle  in  your  hand.'7 

Robert  carelessly :  "  I'll  risk  her.  Here,  my  young 
Amazon  !  my  aspiring  Diana !  carry  your  weapon  thus. 
Shoot  whom  you  please,  but  don't  point  the  muzzle  at  me. 
Hector  and  Miss  Wing  will  lead  the  way." 

Hector  consented  reluctantly,  and  went  forward  with 
Bertha.  Then  followed  Mr.  Rukely  and  Phoebe.  Robert 
walked  behind,  keeping  close  to  Charlotte's  side. 

"  How  little  did  I  expect  this  happiness  !  My  life  !  what 
good  fortune  has  brought  us  again  together  ?  " 

Charlotte  trembled ;  but  there  was  something  besides 
fear  in  the  restless  down  glance  of  her  eye  and  the  quiver 
ing  curve  of  her  lip. 

"  You  were  wrong  to  deceive  me  as  you  did,"  said 
Robert.  "  It  was  like  a  death-blow  when  I  lost  you. 
For  I  had  been  disinterested  and  true.  I  was  your  best 
friend.  I  did  not  merit  such  ingratitude." 

Charlotte  turned  upon  him  a  look  of  impatient  scorn. 

"Not  that  I  blamed  you;  I  did  not,  in  the  least,"  he 
hastened  to  say.  "  You  had  learned,  by  bitter  experience, 
to  distrust  all  men.  Only  I  thought  you  should  have 
known  me  better.  I  could  not  give  you  up  so.  I  have 
spent  the  summer  in  search  of  you.  I  have  a  length  and 
breadth  of  enduring  love,  deep  in  my  nature,  which  noth 
ing  can  tire  or  exhaust.  It  has  centred  in  you;  it  holds 
you ;  it  will  not  let  you  go  ! " 


THE  UUNTEBS  167 

Hard  and  fast  breathed  Charlotte.  She  pressed  her 
hand  upon  her  heart.  At  length  with  forced  calmness 
she  spoke,  — 

"  It  is  useless  to  remind  me  that  I  am  in  your  power. 
I  know  it.  But  I  do  not  care  much  now  ;  I  am  ready  to 
meet  any  shame  or  disaster.  I  once  thought  you  noble  and 
generous  " 

"  But  you  fled  from  me  !  " 

"  And  I  would  have  fled  again  and  again  ;  but  when  I 
saw  you  last  night,  a  dead  despair  fell  on  me.  Something 
has  held  me.  I  seem  to  have  been  brought  here  to-day 
only  to  meet  you  !  " 

"  Your  better  angel  overrules  your  will." 

"  Call  it  what  you  please,"  replied  Charlotte  in  bitter 
anguish;  "I  am  in  your  power.  I  expect  no  mercy  at  your 
hands ! " 

"  Be  calm  ;  listen  to  reason.  When  I  swore  to  be  your 
friend  and  protector,  I  took  an  oath  that  I  shall  keep.  All 
I  ask  is,  that  you  will  consent  to  see  me  again,  hear  my 
explanation,  and  try  to  know  me  better.  I  dare  not  talk 
now.  Hector  is  suspicious.  Promise  me  that,  and  you 
are  safe." 

Charlotte  was  about  to  reply,  when  the  sharp  report  of  a 
rifle  rang  through  the  woods,  and  some  person  was  seen  to 
fall  forward  upon  the  ground. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Rukely  ! "  cried  Eobert.  "  Phoebe  has  shot 
him  !  " 

Phoebe  screamed  with  consternation.  Bertha  ran  to  lift 
her  lover  up.  Hector  and  Robert  reached  the  spot  simul 
taneously.  But  Mr.  Rukely  was  too  quick  for  them  all. 

"  That  was  awfully  careless,  Phcebe  ! "  he  exclaimed, 
looking  very  pale  and  severe. 

"I  —  hoo  —  hoo  —  was  only  seeing  if  there  was  a  cap 
on  !  "  stammered  Phoebe. 

"  I  heard  the  lock  click,"  said  Mr.  Rukely,  "  and  looked 
to  see  what  the  child  was  doing,  when,  providentially,  I 


168  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

tripped  my  foot.  If  I  had  not  stumbled  just  as  I  did,  I 
should  certainly  have  been  shot  through  the  head.  It  was 
a  wonderful  preservation." 

"  How  could  you,  Phoebe  ?  "  said  Bertha. 

"  You  have  wasted  a  charge  of  powder  for  me !  "  ex 
claimed  Robert. 

Mr.  Rukely  magnanimously  :  "  I  forgive  her  !  " 

Phoebe,  weeping :  "  I  only  just  pulled  up  that  thing  a 
little,  —  I  thought  there  wasn't  any  cap  on,  —  and  my 
finger  slipped  off" 

Mr.  Rukely :  "  Well,  well ;  there's  no  harm  done.  Be 
more  careful  in  future." 

Hector  flung  a  sharp  reprimand  at  Robert  for  trusting 
Phoebe  with  the  gun. 

"  Very  good  ! "  laughed  Robert.  "  How  many  of  you 
heard  the  bullet  ?  " 

Bertha  had  heard  the  whistle ;  so  had  Hector.  On  re 
flection  everybody  had  heard  it  whistle  and  cut  the  leaves, 
except  Mr.  Rukely  and  Phoebe. 

"  Now,  the  joke  of  the  thing  is,"  said  Robert,  "  there 
was  no  bullet  in  the  gun  !  So  much  for  imagination  ! " 

This  avowal  failed  to  give  general  satisfaction,  although 
he  was  ready  to  swear  to  it,  and  went  so  far  as  to  explain 
how  it  happened  that,  on  the  coming  up  of  the  shower,  he 
had  rammed  down  a  hard  wad  in  place  of  a  ball.  Phoebe's 
conscience  was  comforted,  and  she  declared  that  she  was 
sure  if  there  had  been  a  bullet  in  the  gun  she  would  not 
have  meddled  with  the  lock  ! 

So  the  party  proceeded,  Charlotte  walking  the  remainder 
of  the  way  with  Mr.  Rukely,  while  Robert  chatted  with 
Phoebe. 

Arrived  at  the  house,  a  lively  excitement  prevailed,  and 
there  arose  a  clamor  of  indignation  against  Robert,  on  the 
discovery  that  Mr.  Rukely 's  hat  had  two  holes  in  it,  —  one 
where  a  bullet  had  gone  in,  and  another  where  it  had  gone 
out. 


THE  HUNTERS  169 

"  I  told  you  so  !  "  cried  Bertha. 

Mr.  Kukely,  with  a  grim  smile  :  "  I  thought  there  was 
no  bullet  in  the  gun,  Mr.  Greenwich  !  " 

Phoebe  looked  blank.  But  Robert  threw  himself  upon  a 
chair,  and  laughed  with  open  throat,  declaring  that  this 
last  was  the  best  joke  of  all. 

"  He  has  no  more  heart  or  conscience  than  a  stone," 
said  Hector.  "  How  were  you  pleased  with  his  conversa 
tion,"  to  Charlotte,  aside,  "  as  you  came  through  the  woods 
together  ?  " 

Charlotte  changed  color :  "  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

Hector,  regarding  her  darkly :  "  Man  is  a  deceiver ; 
woman's  heart  is  soft ;  and  flattery  is  the  snare  of  souls. 
Trust  not  one  of  us  !  " 


170  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


XV 

THE    LIFTING    OF    THE    VEIL 

THENCEFORWARD  Robert  Greenwich  frequented  the  Dun- 
bury  house  with  untiring  zeal.  Hunting,  fishing,  or  riding, 
he  was  never  without  some  pleasant  excuse  for  resorting 
that  way.  He  always  inquired  for  Hector,  and  feigned 
disappointment  if  he  did  not  find  him ;  but  it  was  only 
when  Charlotte  was  absent  that  he  was  ever  known  to  be 
in  a  hurry. 

One  day,  calling  as  usual,  he  found  Charlotte  and  Hector 
sitting  together,  both  silent;  the  former  busy  with  her 
needle,  the  latter  engaged  in  reading  random  passages  in  a 
volume  of  Shakespeare. 

"Under  the  circumstances,"  said  the  visitor,  smiling, 
"I  presume  you  are  not  very  glad  to  see  me." 

"If  you  refer  to  me,"  replied  Hector,  "I  am  not.  I 
never  am.  But  I  suppose  that  makes  no  difference.  Sit 
down." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  frankness.  I  find  it  quite  refresh 
ing.  Don't  let  me  interrupt  anything,  I  pray." 

"You  certainly  shall  not,"  and  Hector  went  on  with 
his  reading. 

Kobert  smiled  as  he  placed  his  hat  on  the  table,  and 
drew  his  chair  to  Charlotte's  side.  For  half  an  hour  they 
conversed  in  low  tones,  with  long  intervals  of  silence ;  and 
at  his  departure  she  accompanied  him  to  the  porch,  and 
talked  some  minutes  with  him  there. 

Returning  then  to  the  sitting-room,  and  finding  Hector's 
book  on  the  floor,  she  stooped  to  take  it  up.  He  caught 


THE  LIFTING    OF   THE   VEIL  171 

her  wrist,  and  held  her  back.  She  looked  up.  The  sup 
pressed  passion  in  his  face  frightened  her. 

"  I  thought  you  had  dropped  it  by  accident,"  she  faltered. 

"  I  flung  it  there  in  a  rage  !  Leave  it  for  my  shame  and 
contrition  to  take  it  up  again."  He  pushed  it  under  the 
table  with  his  foot.  "  Lie  there,"  said  he,  "  until  I  am 


once  more  a  man 


All  this  time  he  held  Charlotte's  wrist.  Rigid  and  pale 
with  suffering,  she  made  but  a  feeble  effort  to  escape. 

"  Are  you  an  angel  or  a  fiend  ?  "  he  demanded,  searching 
her  face  with  his  determined  eye. 

"  Neither,"  said  she  with  tearful  pathos ;  "  I  am  a 
woman." 

"  True  ;  I  had  forgotten,"  replied  Hector.  "  That  name 
accounts  for  every  inconsistency.  A  woman  !  Go  !  " 

He  dropped  her  hand.  The  look  he  gave  her  carried 
a  more  terrible  meaning  than  his  words.  He  took  a  num 
ber  of  quick  strides  across  the  room  ;  then  came  and  looked 
upon  her.  She  had  not  yet  spoken ;  she  had  sunk  down  by 
a  chair:  her  silence  and  meekness  burned  into  his  soul  like 
fire. 

"  Charlotte,"  said   he,    after   a   long   pause.     He    spoke 
more  tenderly,  and  she   began  to  weep.     "  Charlotte  — 
and  he  stooped  to  raise  her    bowed  head. 

She  only  bowed  more  humbly  still ;  and  he  threw  him 
self  prone  upon  his  knees  before  her. 

"  No,  no  !  not  there  ! "  she  cried,  starting  quickly  up. 

He  caught  the  hem  of  her  dress  to  his  lips,  and  kissed 
it ;  but  she  snatched  it  from  him. 

"  What  are  you  ?  "  she  cried  out. 

"  0  God  !  what  am  I  ? "  he  groaned,  burying  his  face 
in  his  hands. 

"  How  have  I  offended  you  ?  " 

"  You  have  not  offended  me.  I  have  offended  myself ! 
Oh,  what  a  fine  blusterer  am  I  !  " 

"  But  I  have  given  you  some  cause ;  I  know  I  have  ! " 


172  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Have  you  ?  I  gather  hope  from  that !  Tell  me  what 
—  afford  me  an  excuse  for  my  rage  —  and  unhorse  this  imp 
of  conscience  that  rides  me  !  Come,  sit  here,  and  we  will 
talk." 

"I  have  not  been  open  and  free  with  you/'  Charlotte 
confessed. 

"  True ;  but  what  of  that  ?  I  have  had  no  claim  upon 
your  confidence  whatever  ! " 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  you  have  !  No  outward  claim,  perhaps 
—  and  yet  a  claim  ;  I  have  felt  it,  and  you  have  felt  it ! " 

"  And  so  I  have  !  But  I  thought  that  was  all  my  ego 
tism.  You  recognize  it?  0  Charlotte,  if  a  desperate 
and  all-controlling  love  can  merit  anything,  I  have  a  claim ! 
Sit  still  —  for  now  my  tongue  is  loosed,  and  you  must  hear 
me !  In  spite  of  myself,  in  spite  of  reason  and  will,  I  am 
drawn  irrevocably  to  you.  As  you  are  to  me,  so  is  all  the 
world.  To  doubt  you  is  to  doubt  humanity.  The  light  of 
the  universe  shines  upon  me  through  your  eyes;  and  if 
they  are  turned  from  me,  my  soul  is  dark.  Are  you  fright 
ened,  or  are  you  glad,  that  you  tremble  so  and  hide  your 
face  ?  " 

No  reply.     Hector  went  on. 

"  I  thought  —  I  believed  —  that  I  was  to  you  all  that  you 
were  to  me.  So  I  had  a  claim.  And  after  a  long  struggle 
within  myself,  there  came  a  period  of  calm  and  peace. 
My  soul  opened  its  doors  to  you.  But  just  then  Robert 
Greenwich  appeared.  He  cast  his  shadow  between  us ; 
and  the  doors  were  clashed  together  as  by  a  whirlwind. 
Had  he  been  worthy,  could  I  have  seen  that  you  belonged  to 
him  by  the  divine  law,  —  but  you  know  my  feeling  of  that 
man  !  Imagine,  then,  what  a  burning  was  lighted  within 
me,  when  I  saw  him,  with  a  cool,  audacious  smile,  step  in, 
and  gain  from  you  in  an  hour  what  is  withheld  from  me  to 
this  day ! " 

"  Gain  from  me  —  what  ?  " 

"  That  you  know,  better  than  I !     But  I  am  not  blind ; 


THE  LIFTING   OF  THE   VEIL  116 

I  am  not  deaf.  Would  that  I  were  !  Not  once  has  that 
fine  hypocrite  gone  out  of  his  selfish  track  for  me.  All 
his  visits  to  this  house  are  visits  to  you.  The  first  day  of 
your  meeting  in  the  woods  he  insinuated  himself  into  your 
confidence ;  I  saw  it  at  the  time.  Since  then  there  have 
been  many  secrets  between  you.  I  have  marked  his  as 
sumption,  which  you  have  endured,  if  not  encouraged.  I 
have  marked  your  blushes,  your  pallor,  your  faltering 
speech,  when  he  has  come  suddenly  upon  you,  or  given 
you  meaning  looks,  or  whispered  in  your  ear.  With  the 
interest  I  feel  in  you,  and  the  scorn  I  have  for  him,  can 
you  wonder  at  the  fury  stirred  in  my  blood  ?  To-day  the 
tiger  was  roused,  and  would  have  sprung  at  his  throat." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  ;  I  am  to  blame  !  "  uttered  Charlotte. 

"  0  woman !  woman  !  I  loved  you,  and  tried  to  hate 
you.  I  believed  you  worthy,  and  believed  you  not  worthy. 
To  my  understanding  you  appeared  false  and  erring  ;  but 
ever  in  my  heart  you  were  fair,  white-robed,  pure,  angelic  ! 
Oh,  how  I  loved  you  when  I  was  most  unkind  !  Charlotte, 
did  I  deserve  your  trust  ?  " 

"  You  did  —  you  did  !  But  your  friendship  was  too 
precious  to  me  ;  I  could  not  bear  to  lose  it :  my  fear  kept 
me  dumb,  so  I  left  you  to  misjudge  me." 

"  Show  me  how  I  misjudged  you." 

"  Let  me  sit  by  the  window  ;  I  cannot  breathe  here," 
said  Charlotte.  "  I  will  tell  you  everything  to-day.  This 
agony  must  have  an  end.  I  know  you  will  cast  me  from 
you  —  but  it  will  be  better  so.  Be  patient ;  I  must  collect 
my  thoughts  a  little." 

Hector  trembled  with  suspense.  He  led  her  to  a  seat  by 
the  window,  and,  placing  himself  beside  her,  took  her  cold 
hands  in  his. 

"  Speak  boldly,"  said  he  in  quivering  tones.  "  If  I  am 
true,  no  misfortune,  no  fault,  no  dark  spot  in  the  past,  can 
stain  you  in  my  sight.  Your  soul  is  what  I  love.  It 
matters  little  what  garments  it  has  worn,  if  it  be  clothed 


174  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

in  white  to-day.  The  true  man  looks  through  every  ex 
ternal  circumstance,  to  the  spiritual  substance  under  all. 
Only  the  weak  and  ignorant  regard  birth,  fortune,  family, 
reputation  "  — 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened.  Mrs.  Dunbury  entered, 
smiling  benignly. 

"  Do  I  intrude  ?  "  she  asked,  hesitating. 

"  You  do,"  said  Hector  gently,  but  with  something  like 
a  frown.  "  Leave  us  alone  for  a  few  minutes  —  if  you 
please." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  Dunbury.  "  I  am  afraid  you 
will  take  cold  by  that  window,  Charlotte.  There  is  quite  a 
chill  air  to-day." 

She  stooped  to  take  up  Hector's  book  ;  he  followed  her 
with  an  impatient  eye  ;  when,  having  turned  again  to  smile 
her  satisfaction  at  the  aspect  of  affairs,  she  deliberately 
withdrew. 


FIGHTING  FIRE  175 


XVI 

FIGHTING    FIRE 

IT  was  a  new  thing  for  Hector  to  be  closeted  with  Char 
lotte.  His  mother  augured  favorably  from  the  circum 
stance,  and  waited  with  hopeful  interest  for  the  termination 
of  the  interview. 

The  hour  seemed  long;  but  at  length,  with  a  thrill  of 
motherly  solicitude,  she  heard  the  sitting-room  door  open, 
and  Hector  come  forth.  He  was  passing  through  the  hall, 
when  she  hastened  to  intercept  him. 

"  Hector  !  "  —  she  started  with  alarm  —  "  are  you  ill  ?  " 

There  was  a  desperate  trouble  in  his  pale  face.  He  did 
not  glance  aside,  or  turn  his  head,  but,  putting  her  off  with 
a  feeble  gesture,  as  she  followed  him,  hurried  from  the 
house.  Excited  with  fresh  fears,  Mrs.  Dunbury  made  haste 
to  find  Charlotte.  She  entered  the  sitting-room.  All  was 
still ;  she  saw  no  one ;  but  presently  a  low  moan  directed 
her  attention  to  a  large  arm-chair,  before  which  lay  Char 
lotte  like  one  dead,  with  her  face  upon  the  floor,  hidden  in 
the  scattered  masses  of  her  hair. 

"  My  child  !  what  is  this  ?  "  She  lifted  her  up  ;  she  put 
back  the  curls  from  her  temples ;  she  kissed  her,  and  called 
her  endearing  names.  But  the  poor  girl  only  moaned,  and 
strove  to  prostrate  herself  again  upon  the  floor.  Then, 
more  than  ever  alarmed,  but  fearing  more  for  Hector  than 
for  her,  Mrs.  Dunbury  threw  on  hastily  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  and  walked  out  in  the  direction  he  had  been  observed 
to  take. 

It  was  another  smoky  day.      The  drouth  had  continued  ; 


176  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

but  for  one  brief  thunder-shower,  there  had  been  no  rain 
for  weeks.  Autumn  had  crept  unawares  in  the  dry  path  of 
summer.  The  hills  were  prematurely  brown ;  the  sun  looked 
like  blood  in  the  sky. 

A  few  days  before,  in  the  anticipation  of  rain,  Mr.  Dun- 
bury  had  ventured  to  set  fire  to  some  obstinate  stumps  on 
the  borders  of  a  swamp  west  of  the  creek.  Again,  as  usual 
that  summer,  all  signs  had  failed ;  the  rain  came  not ;  the 
earth  was  dried  to  tinder  ;  and  the  fire  spread  in  every  di 
rection.  The  men  fought  against  its  inroads  with  water 
and  spades ;  drenched  it,  quenched  it,  smothered  it  in  dirt ; 
killed  it,  cried  victory,  and  left  it  for  dead  a  dozen  times. 
But  it  had  the  blind  mole's  instinct  for  digging  in  the 
earth.  It  ate  off  the  roots  of  trees,  and  brought  them  down 
crashing  in  the  dry  swamp.  It  devoured  the  loam  itself ; 
it  ran  in  the  grass  like  snakes  ;  and  was  continually  watch 
ing  its  opportunity  to  dodge  into  the  fences,  or  to  insinuate 
itself  into  the  balsam  pump-logs  piled  up  on  the  edge  of 
the  swamp. 

It  had  shown  itself  again  that  afternoon,  leaping  up, 
flushed  and  exultant,  in  a  spot  where  least  expected.  Its 
fantastic  dancing  and  clapping  of  hands  had  been  speedily 
checked,  and  it  now  lay  humbled  in  dust  And  ashes ;  but 
columns  of  smoke,  arising  from  the  burnt  ground,  marked 
the  scene  of  the  conflict. 

Mrs.  Dunbury  thought  she  discerned  Hector  working 
with  his  father  in  the  midst  of  the  smoke.  In  her  uncer 
tainty  she  spoke  to  Corny,  who  was  filling  barrels  with 
water  at  the  creek. 

"  Yis,  that's  him,"  drawled  Corny.  "  I  dV  know  what 
we  should  done  without  him  ;  for  he  beats  all  creation  to 
work,  when  he  gits  a  little  grain  riled." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  riled  ?  " 

"  Wai,  he  was  goin'  by,  when  me  an7  Mist'  Dunbury  was 
runnin'  to  put  out  the  fire  ;  and  Mist'  Dunbury  told  him  to 
go  an'  help,  —  kinder  cross,  I  thought',  an'  I  guess  he 


FIGHTING  FIRE  177 

thought  so  too,  for  he  didn't  say  nothin' ;  but  the  way  he 
put  in  when  he  got  to  the  fire  was  a  caution,  you  may  as 
well  believe  !  Darned  if  I  could  do  anything  but  stan'  an' 
look  on !  " 

"  Well,  fill  the  barrels ;  they  will  want  the  water." 

"  I  am  fillin'  'em.  There !  what  in  thunder  was  I 
thinkin'  on  ?  They  tumbled  off'm  the  sled  when  I  turned 
the  hoss  round,  and  I've  been  'n'  filled  one  'ithout  puttin'  it 
on  agin  ! " 

"Place  the  other  on  the  sled,  and  dip  the  water  from 
this  one  into  it,"  said  Mrs.  Dunbury. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Dunbury  shouted,  "  Make  haste ! " 

"  Ain't  I  makin'  haste  all  I  can ! "  muttered  Corny. 
"  He'll  be  mad  as  thunder,  now,  if  he  sees  me  pourin'  water 
from  one  barrel  into  t'other." 

An  hour  later  Bridget  blew  the  horn,  and  Mr.  Dunbury 
and  Corny  came  up  to  supper.  They  were  covered  with 
sweat  and  soot ;  and  the  brow  of  the  farmer  was  dark  and 
angry. 

"  Where  is  Hector  ?  "  asked  the  invalid  anxiously. 

"  He  is  in  the  swamp." 

"  Isn't  he  coming  to  supper  ?  " 

"  It  was  necessary  for  some  one  to  watch  the  fire." 

"  I  offered  to,"  said  Corny,  blacking  a  towel  with  his 
half-washed  face  ;  "  but  he  said  he'd  stay,  so  I  thought  I'd 
let  him,  if  he  could  see  any  fun  in't." 

After  supper  Corny  was  sent  to  take  Hector's  place  ; 
but  he  returned  not  long  after,  and  made  his  appearance 
whittling. 

"  Where  is  Hector  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Dunbury  again. 

"  He's  out  there." 

"  But  you  were  told  to  watch  the  fire." 

"Wai,  he  said  he'd  watch  it.  B'sides,  the  fire's  all  under 
now,  and  he  could  leave  it 's  well  as  not,  if  he  was  a  mind  to." 

Mrs.  Dunbury  then  went  to  the  garden,  where  her  hus 
band  was  at  work,  and  expressed  to  him  something  of  her 


178  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

fears  for  Hector.  "  Would  it  not  be  well  to  speak  to  him 
yourself  ?  "  she  ventured  to  say. 

"  And  go  down  on  my  knees  to  him  ?  "  added  her  husband, 
with  a  lurid  look. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  that ;  but  you  know  his  spirit.  He  cannot 
forget  a  wrong ;  an  unjust  or  unworthy  word  corrodes  his 
very  heart." 

Mr.  Dunbury  made  no  reply,  but  kept  on  husking  the 
garden  corn,  and  throwing  the  ears  into  a  basket.  His 
face  was  red  and  angry  ;  and,  with  her  knowledge  of  his 
moods,  she  judged  it  wise  to  leave  him.  It  was  now  fast 
growing  dark,  and  as  a  last  resort  she  sent  Bridget  with  a 
message  to  her  son. 

But  the  evening  dragged  on,  and  still  Hector  did  not 
appear.  Under  the  wide  canopy  of  smoke  that  burdened 
the  night  air  and  hid  the  stars,  he  sat  upon  a  fallen  trunk, 
in  the  midst  of  the  black  field.  The  subtle  element  was 
"  under,"  as  Corny  had  declared ;  but,  though  crushed,  it 
was  not  killed  :  angry  eyes  starting  out  now  and  then,  and 
winking  redly  in  the  dark,  betrayed  its  lurking  life.  No 
other  object  was  visible  on  any  side,  far  or  near,  save  the 
darker  shadows  of  the  swamp,  contrasting  dimly  with  the 
misty  gloom  of  the  fields. 

There  was  something  deeply  solemn  in  the  scene.  To 
Hector  it  seemed  typical  of  his  own  soul. 

In  the  night  of  despair  by  which  he  was  encompassed, 
he  saw  no  light,  no  glimmer  anywhere,  save  in  the  quiver 
ing  embers  of  a  deep-burning  passion,  which  he  had  trampled 
beneath  his  feet.  Then,  looking  to  the  eastward,  he  beheld 
a  startling  apparition  in  the  sky.  It  was  of  two  blood-red 
spectres,  nickering  and  glowing  like  fragments  of  the  moon 
in  flames.  He  knew  that  the  phenomenon  was  caused  by 
fires  on  the  high  mountain-top ;  but  his  distempered  fancy 
could  see  only  two  grotesque  and  awful  eyes  gazing  upon 
him  out  of  heaven,  and  symbolizing  the  still  more  awful 
eyes  of  conscience  in  his  soul. 


FIGHTING   FIRE  179 

The  night  wore  on.  The  giant  eyes  blinked  sleepily. 
The  embers  in  the  ground  twinkled,  and  shifted  from  place 
to  place,  like  electric  sparks.  The  leaves  rustled  in  the 
swamp  ;  the  night-wind  moaned  in  the  trees.  Then  came  a 
snapping  and  crackling  of  roots,  a  stir  in  the  air,  a  murmur 
and  a  whisper  overhead,  followed  by  a  deep,  hoarse  whistle, 
swelling  to  a  roar,  and  a  resounding  crash  in  the  blind 
woods.  The  earth  shuddered,  and  dull  echoes  smote  the 
hills.  A  tree  had  fallen.  Still  Hector  sat  and  watched  ; 
and  now,  while  his  limbs  became  chill  with  the  cold,  his 
thoughts  grew  wild  and  hideous.  He  imagined  himself 
surrounded  by  vast  pits  of  smouldering  fire.  Then  it 
seemed  that  the  world  had  been  destroyed,  and  that  he 
was  the  sole  survivor  of  his  race,  brooding  upon  the  ruins. 

People  he  had  known  moved  past  him  in  grimacing  and 
solemn  procession.  They  were  but  as  phantoms  that  had 
never  had  a  real  existence.  The  life  he  had  lately  lived 
was  something  vague  and  visionary,  and  far  off  in  the 
past ;  his  own  bodily  form  seemed  strange  to  him,  and  he 
wondered  at  the  gigantic  proportions  of  the  being  that 
seemed  himself.  Suddenly  all  this  passed,  and  he  saw  one 
sole,  clear  image,  as  of  purest  amber,  exquisitely  soft  and 
glorious,  falling,  falling  forever,  in  a  chaotic  sky.  It  was 
the  image  of  Charlotte. 

He  knew  not  whether  these  fancies  ended  in  sleep  ;  but 
when  his  mind  aroused  to  consciousness  again,  the  moun 
tain  tires  had  faded,  and  the  dawn  was  faintly  struggling 
through  the  dim  smoke  that  shrouded  the  world. 


180  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XVII 

THE    MORNING    AFTER 

ALL  night  long  Mrs.  Dunbury  listened  for  Hector's  foot 
steps  in  the  hall ;  and  it  was  not  until  after  she  had  heard 
him  enter  at  daybreak,  and  go  up  to  his  chamber,  that  slum 
ber  overtook  the  thronging  troubles  of  her  brain. 

She  was  awakened  by  a  knock  at  her  door. 

"  Who  is  there  ?  " 

Hector  entered.     He  was  pale  and  haggard. 

"  0  my  son  ! "  said  she,  reaching  out  her  hands  from 
her  pillow,  "  come  here  !  What  a  night  I  have  passed  ! " 

"  What  a  night  /  have  passed,  mother  ! " 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  Fighting  fire." 

"  But  they  told  me  there  was  no  fire  to  fight." 

"  Ah,  but  there  was  fire  to  fight  ! "  and  Hector  laid  his 
hand  upon  his  breast.  "  Where  is  father  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  has  gone  in  search  of  you.  He  was  awake 
all  night ;  and  as  soon  as  it  was  beginning  to  grow  light  he 
arose  and  went  out." 

"  That  is  well.  When  he  returns,  please  tell  him  that  I 
leave  town  to-day." 

"  Leave  town  !  " 

"  Temper  your  surprise,  and  listen  to  me  a  moment." 

"  But  you  must  not  think  of  it  !  "  and  Mrs.  Dunbury 
held  her  son's  hand  with  spasmodic  energy.  "  It  will  kill 
me  to  have  you  go  ! " 

"  It  will  kill  me  to  stay,  mother !  " 

"  But  reflect "  — 


MORNING  AFTER  181 

"  I  have  had  all  night  to  reflect ;  and  I  must  go.  Life 
here  can  be  but  one  prolonged  distress.  Oh,  what  stuff 
mortality  is  made  of  !  But  a  little  time  ago,  the  golden 
summer  was  all  before  me  ;  now  it  is  all  behind  me.  What 
was  happiness  is  dust ;  what  was  hope  is  ashes  !  My  brain 
is  unsettled,  and  I  need  solitude." 

"  I  pity  you,  my  son  !  " 

"  None  of  your  pity  !  Rise  up,  rather,  like  a  Spartan 
mother,  and  charge  me  to  be  a  man  !  My  destiny  is  not 
yet  fulfilled.  Have  no  fears  for  my  welfare.  There  is  no 
danger  for  me,  except  in  resting  here,  to  shrivel  and  wither 
up  before  my  time." 

"  But  Charlotte  "  - 

Hector  pressed  his  forehead  in  his  hand,  as  if  to  hold  it 
from  bursting. 

"  Think  of  her  !  " 

"  Oh,  were  it  possible  not  to  think  of  her  ! "  A  sigh 
shook  his  whole  frame,  and  his  voice  was  torn  with  an 
guish,  like  his  heart.  "  But  I  will  not  lie  weak.  Let  me 
make  one  last  request.  Do  you  know  her  whom  we  call 
Charlotte  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  do ;   I  think  she  is  a  pure  and  good  girl  " 

"  Think  ?  0  mother  !  "  and  there  was  a  bright  earnest 
ness  in  Hector's  eyes.  "  I  could  tell  you  a  story  !  —  To  pass 
through  what  she  has  passed  through  !  Oh,  we  have  never 
known  her  !  " 

"  I  felt  that,  —  I  felt  it  all  !  " 

"  Then  you  should  be  ashamed  to  have  said,  *  I  think/ 
For  my  sake  cherish  her  with  the  tenderest  care  ;  comfort 
her  in  suffering;  be  her  friend  at  all  times;  and,  happen 
what  will,  never  forsake  her  ! " 

"  But  you  —  why  do  you  desert  her  ?  why  leave  her  at 
all  ?  " 

"Let  that  rest  where  it  does  —  between  her  and  me  alone. 
If  you  knew  all,  then  you  would  understand ;  then  you  would 
say,  '  You  do  well  to  go.'  Destiny  is  strange  —  strange  ! " 


182  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

The  entrance  of  Mr.  Dunbury  interrupted  the  confer 
ence. 

"  It  is  a  surprise  to  see  you,  sir,"  he  said,  with  a  some 
what  surly  look  at  Hector. 

"  If  that  surprise  could  have  been  postponed  some  minutes 
longer,  I  should  not  be  sorry.  But,  since  you  are  here,  I 
may  as  well  deliver  the  message  I  was  about  to  leave  for 
you."  And  Hector  named  his  proposed  journey. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Dunbury  doggedly.  "  I  suppose 
that  what  I  said  yesterday  has  decided  you." 

"  What  you  said  nettled  me ;  for  I  was  sore  from  head 
to  heel  when  you  hit  me  so  rudely  with  your  speech.  But 
that  is  passed  with  me  ;  I  hope  it  is  passed  with  you.  I  am 
grieved,  not  that  you  addressed  me  as  you  did,  but  that 
you,  my  father,  could  find  it  in  your  heart  to  address  any 
one  in  such  terms.  I  say  this  in  all  kindness,  and  with 
due  respect ;  but  I  have  of  late  fallen  into  the  habit  of 
plain  speaking." 

Mr.  Dunbury  looked  fiery  ;  but  whether  from  self -con 
viction  or  resentment  Hector  did  not  know. 

"  I  leave  to-day ;  and  only  Heaven  knows  when  I  shall 
return,  if  ever.  I  have  spent  a  happy  summer  with  you 
here.  You  have  been  at  most  times  a  father  to  me  ;  you, 
mamma,  have  been  always  more  than  a  mother.  I  thank 
you  both !  That  I  have  not  been  worthy,  I  know  too  well, 
too  well !  I  am  by  nature  imperious  and  self-willed,  fitful 
and  rash,  and  I  have  too  often  given  rein  to  this  wild  horse 
of  temper.  You,  dear  mamma,  can  forgive  all  that,  and  a 
thousand  times  more !  I  hope  you,  my  father,  will  forgive 
so  much.  Let  me  kneel  here  until  I  hear  you  say  so." 

Hector  got  down  by  the  bed,  and  hid  his  face.  The 
invalid  pressed  his  noble  head,  and  kissed  his  fair,  flowing 
locks,  sobbing  audibly.  For  more  than  a  minute  Mr.  Dun- 
bury  looked  on  in  rigid  silence.  Then  his  chest  began  to 
heave,  and  his  lips  to  quiver,  and  a  glistening  moisture 
quenched  the  flame  of  his  eyes.  After  two  or  three  at- 


THE  MORNING  AFTER  183 

tempts,  which  pride  appeared  to  foil,  he  stooped  and  took 
Hector  by  the  arm. 

"  Arise  up  now ;  "  his  voice  and  manner  betrayed  emo 
tion  struggling  still  with  pride.  "I  —  I  do  not  like  to  see 
you  so.  You  know  I  forgive  you.  Then  let  us  be  men, 
and  talk  and  act  like  men." 

"  Except  we  be  first  as  little  children,  we  can  never  be 
true  men,"  said  Hector. 

There  was  love  and  suffering  and  an  indescribable  soft 
ness  in  his  tones,  which  troubled  the  parent's  rugged  spirit 
more  and  more.  He  reached  forth  instinctively,  and  took 
his  father's  hand.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  terrible 
boiling  and  swelling  of  the  restrained  waters ;  then  the  ice 
gave  away,  and  they  gushed  forth.  The  strong  man  was 
broken  ;  he  cried  out,  — 

"  I  am  the  only  offender ;  I  am  not  fit  to  live  ! " 

"  0  my  father  !  "  said  Hector,  "  my  father  !  my  father  !  " 

The  invalid  wept  still ;  but  a  deep  happiness  stirred 
under  all  her  grief,  and  sweetened  her  bitterest  tears. 

On  leaving  his  mother's  room,  Hector  passed  an  hour  in 
his  own  chamber,  making  preparations  for  his  departure. 
Then  returning,  and  finding  her  alone,  and  busily  engaged 
in  preparing  some  little  comforts  to  remind  him  of  her 
in  his  absence,  he  bent  over  her  tenderly,  and  took  her 
hand. 

"Put  away  those  trifles,"  said  he,  with  a  sad  smile.  "It 
pains  me  to  see  you  strain  your  eyes,  working  for  an  un 
grateful  son  ! " 

"Anything  I  can  do  for  you  is  a  solace  to  my  pain," 
replied  his  mother,  blinded  once  more  by  her  tears. 

"  But  there  is  something  of  deeper  importance  and  of 
dearer  interest  that  you  can  do  for  me  now.  I  find  I  can 
not  go  without  saying  one  last  word  to  Charlotte.  I  wish 
to  feel  that  she  understands  me,  and  forgives  me." 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  this  before  ?  " 

"  Why  before  ?  and  why  not  now  ?  " 


184  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Charlotte !  Charlotte ! "  a  fresh  distress  choked  the 
invalid's  voice  ;  "  she  is  gone  ! " 

Blank  disappointment  sent  the  color  from  Hector's  face. 
He  repeated,  "  Gone  ! " 

"  Half  an  hour  since.  I  could  not  detain  her  longer. 
Oh,  how  she  loves  you !  how  she  suffers,  Hector !  She 
would  have  gone  out  wildly  into  the  world  last  night,  — 
anywhere,  to  meet  any  fate,  to  die ;  but  my  entreaties  pre 
vailed,  and  she  remained.  But  this  morning  I  could  not 
move  her.  She  believed  that  it  was  her  presence  here 
that  drove  you  from  your  home  " 

"  Which  way  did  she  go  ?  " 

"  To  Mr.  Jackwood's.  It  was  by  my  advice.  I  sent  Cor 
nelius  with  her." 

"  It  is  well ! "  said  Hector.  "  After  I  am  gone,  send  for 
her ;  she  cannot  but  come  back  to  you.  Perhaps  it  is  better 
that  I  should  not  see  her  again.  Tell  her  —  tell  her  —  to 
think  kindly  of  me  ;  and  —  that's  all." 

His  mother  sobbed.  He  stooped  and  kissed  her.  "  Bless 
you,  bless  you,  mother  !  "  Then  returning  to  his  chamber, 
he  hastened  to  make  final  preparations  for  his  journey. 


PARTINGS 


XVIII 

PARTINGS 

STRANGE  sensations  crowded  Charlotte's  heart  as  Corny 
set  her  down  at  Mr.  Jackwood's  gate.  The  hens  cackled 
as  of  old  ;  Rover  ran  out  barking,  and  leaped  upon  her 
dress ;  and  the  rising  generation  of  turkeys  saluted  her 
with  a  clamor  of  comically  juvenile  voices.  Then  Bim 
cried  hello,  with  a  good-natured  grin  ;  and  Phoebe  appeared, 
clapping  her  hands  delightedly. 

"  You've  come  to  stop  a  week,  I  know ;  haven't  you  ?  " 
cried  the  young  girl.  "  And,  only  think,  gran'ma  is  going 
back  to  Sawney  Hook  to-day,  and  we  are  all  tickled  to 
death  !  But  don't  you  tell  her  you're  going  to  stay ;  for 
it'll  make  her  so  mad,  1  don't  know  but  she'd  give  up 
going,  just  to  bother  us  ;  she's  so  everlasting  ugly,  if  I  do 
say  it !  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  dropped  her  "  flat "  upon  the  kitchen 
table,  where  she  was  ironing  a  Rigglesty  cap,  and  met 
Charlotte  smilingly  at  the  door ;  while  the  elder  Abime- 
lech,  who  was  engaged  in  tinkering  the  old  lady's  trunk  on 
the  inside,  put  his  head  out,  and  reached  over,  after  rub 
bing  his  fingers  on  his  trousers,  to  shake  hands  with  the 
visitor. 

"  Here's  our  Cha'lotte,  gran'mother  !  " 

The  old  lady,  bending  painfully  over  a  basin  at  the 
stove,  occupied  in  washing  out  the  Good  Samaritan  in  a 
little  dab  of  suds,  looked  up  with  a  faint  simper  of  recog 
nition. 

"Oh,  how  d'e  do?"     She  pulled  her  shawl  about  her 


186  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

neck  with  the  tips  of  her  wet  fingers,  as  if  she  felt  a  draught 
of  air  from  somewhere  in  the  direction  of  Charlotte.  "  Ye 
ben  well  ?  " 

Charlotte  had  been  quite  well ;  and  how  was  Mrs.  Rig- 
glesty  ? 

"  Oh,  'tain't  o'  much  consequence  about  me  !  Still,  it's 
perlite  to  ask,  I  s'pose.  I  ain't  a  bit  well.  I  never  be,  late 
years.  Slavin'  for  my  childern's  wore  my  constitution  all 
down  to  no  thin'.  An'  sence  the  day  I  got  my  feet  wet  in 
that  'ere  plaguy  boat,  I've  ben  wus'n  ever.  I've  the  ter- 
rible-est  crickin'  pain  from  my  left  ear  all  the  way  down 
my  shoulder  to  the  small  o'  my  back;  nobody  knows 
nothin'  't  all  what  I  suffer  with  't,  an'  more'n  all  that,  I 
don't  suppose  nobody  cares." 

And,  dropping  a  silent  tear  in  the  dish  of  suds,  she  went 
on  squeezing  the  Good  Samaritan,  snuffing  and  sighing 
audibly. 

"  Gran'mother's  goin'  to  quit  us  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Jack- 
wood,  "an'  I'm  sure  I  don'  know  how  we're  goin'  to  git 
along  without  her." 

"  Oh,  I  sha'n't  be  missed !  I'm  nothin'  but  a  burden, 
seems,  in  some  places !  I  got  a  darter  down  to  Sawney 
Hook,  —  that's  one  comfort,  —  an'  if  she's  half  as  glad  to 
see  me  as  other  folks  be  to  git  red  on  me,  I  shall  be  thank 
ful.  I  got  this  'ere  han'some  handkerchief/'  wringing  out 
the  Good  Samaritan,  "  to  make  a  present  on't  to  one  o' 
the  childern ;  but  there  hain't  neither  on  'em  desarved  it, 
an'  I  don't  see  but  I  shall  haf  to  carry  it  back  to  give  to 
some  o'  Dolly's  folks,  arter  all." 

Phoebe,  in  an  undertone :  "  They're  welcome  to  the  old 
thing,  for  all  me !  For  my  part,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  the 
last  on't." 

Old  lady :  "  What's  that  gal  mutterin'  ?  Come,  empty 
out  these  suds,  an'  gi'  me  some  rensin'  water,  can't  ye  ? 
I  want  to  git  the  handkerchief  to  dryin',  so  's  't  we 
won't  haf  to  put  off  ironin'  on't  till  the  very  last  thing. 


PARTINGS  187 

I'm  afeared  I  sha'n't  be  able  to  git  away  to-day,  arter 
all." 

At  this  alarming  suggestion  Phoebe  sprang  with  alac 
rity  to  do  the  old  lady's  bidding.  In  her  haste  she  be 
spattered  Abimelech  and  Corny,  who  were  approaching  the 
kitchen  door. 

"  Here  !  "  cried  Bim  ;  "  that's  smart  !  Guess  ye  better 
look  !  Firin'  yer  darned  old  suds  all  over  a  feller  ! " 

"  Binr  lech  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood  ;  «  what's  that  ?  " 

"  Wai,  she  might  ta'  care  !  I'll  git  a  hull  dipperful, 
and  tire  back,  next  time  ! " 

Mr.  Jackwood:  "  There,  there,  you're  a  terrible  injured 
boy  !  What  does  Corny  want  ?  " 

Corny,  soberly :  "  I  come  perty  nigh  fergittin'  my 
errant,  arter  all.  I'd  got  started  for  hum  'fore  I  thought 
Mr.  Dunbury  said  I  might  leave  the  buggy,  an'  hitch  onto 
your  one-hoss  wagon,  if  you  can  spare  't  's  well's  not. 
Hector's  goin'  away,  an'  we  want  to  take  his  trunks  over 
to  town." 

"  Hector  going  !  "  echoed  Phoebe.    "  Not  to  stay,  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  don't  s'pose  he'd  take  his  trunks  if  he  was  cornin' 
right  back.  Mebby  Charlotte  knows  !  " 

"  Why,  you  never  spoke  of  it,  Charlotte  !  " 

Old  lady  :  "  I  shouldn't  think  community  'd  mourn  much  ! 
He's  the  sa'ciest  young  man,  — an'  so  disagreeable  !  Jest 
like  his  daddy,  for  all  the  world,  tho'  I  don't  know  's  he 
drinks." 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  He's  dre'ful  smart,  though.  I  alluz  got 
along  with  Hector.  'Bout  the  wagon,  Corny,  —  I  dono. 
We  got  to  go  over  with  gran'mother  some  time  this  fore 
noon." 

Bim,  brightly  :  "  She  might  ride  with  Mr.  Dunbury's 
folks." 

"  I  guess  'twon't  be  wuth  while  for  me  to  go  at  all,  if  it's 
goin'  to  make  so  much  fuss.  As  for  ridin'  with  them  'ere 
Dunburys  " 


188  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

And  giving  the  Good  Samaritan  a  revengeful  twist  and 
.jhake,  the  old  lady  hung  him  before  the  stove  to  dry,  with 
a/n  air  which  sufficiently  expressed  her  sentiments  on  that 
subject. 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  whose  wits  were  sharpened  by  the  bare 
thought  of  the  old  lady's  being  detained,  proposed  that  Mr. 
Dunbury  should  have  the  wagon,  and  take  aboard  the  big 
trunk,  in  passing ;  and  that  the  old  lady  herself  should  be 
transported,  with  her  lesser  baggage,  in  the  buggy.  Corny 
thought  this  arrangement  would  suit  "  fust-rate,"  and 
accordingly  took  his  departure. 

"  I'm  real  glad  !  "  said  Phoebe  ;  "  for  Hector  '11  have  to 
stop,  and  we  can  bid  him  good-by,  can't  we,  Charlotte  ?  " 

The  Jackwood  family  worked  industriously.  Mrs.  Jack- 
wood  assisted  in  packing  the  trunk  and  doing  up  bundles, 
while  Phcebe  flat-ironed  the  Good  Samaritan  with  a  ven 
geance.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Bim  showed  a 
disposition  to  do  something  for  the  old  lady ;  and  Rover, 
impressed  with  the  spirit  of  the  household,  took  it  into  his 
head  to  facilitate  business  by  running  away  with  her  shoe. 

At  length  all  was  ready  ;  and  Mrs.  Eigglesty,  in  her 
black  bombazine,  with  her  bonnet  and  cloak  on,  and  her 
shawl  about  her  neck,  sat  cooking  her  feet  in  the  stove- 
oven,  and  sipping  a  cup  of  boiling-hot  tea.  A  quiet  glee 
inspired  Phoebe,  and  Bim  manifested  a  naughty  inclination 
to  dance  a  hornpipe  under  the  stoop. 

"  I  believe  I've  got  everything  aboard,"  observed  Mr. 
Jackwood,  looking  serious  as  possible. 

"  I  suppose  you're  in  a  hurry  to  git  me  off ! "  sighed  the 
old  lady.  "  Wai,  you  won't  be  troubled  with  me  agin  very 
soon.  Is  my  luncheon  in  the  bag  ?  I  wish  there'd  ben  a 
bit  of  cold  ham  to  go  'long  with  it ;  but  never  mind.  Take 
this  hot  brick,  Bim'lech." 

"  Bim'lech !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood  in  a  suppressed  voice, 
"  quit  your  laughin' !  " 

"  I  was  in  hopes  that  lyin'  pedler  'd  be  this  way  agin, 


PARTINGS  189 

'fore  I  went.  If  he  ever  does  show  his  face  here,  I  hope 
you'll  give  him  a  sound  blessin',  amongst  ye,  and  git  back 
the  money  he  swindled  me  out  of  for  them  shoes.  There, 
if  you  hain't  dropped  that  brick  !  " 

Abimelech,  chagrined  :  "  I  couldn't  help  it,  it's  so  tarnal 
hot  ! " 

Old  lady  :  "  And  you've  broke  it,  I  do  declare  !  I  might 
knowed  you  would  !  You  are  the  carlessest  child  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "Never  mind.  We'll  make  this  answer 
till  we  git  to  the  village,  and  take  along  another  to  heat  at 
the  tavern." 

Old  lady,  moving :  "  Oh,  dear,  I'm  down  sick  !  I'm  no 
more  fit  to  be  trav'llin'  'n  I  be  to  fly  ;  but  I  s'pose  I  must 
go.  Tuck  my  shawl  up  around  my  neck  a  little,  Betsy."' 

Mr.  Jackwood  cheerily  :  "•  Step  right  up  in  the  chair, 
gran'mother  !  Hold  the  hoss,  Bim'lech." 

Old  lady,  very  desponding :  "  I  don't,  for  the  life  of  me, 
see  how  I'm  ever  goin'  to  git  'way  up  in  that  high  buggy  ! 
Oh,  ho,  hum  !  Don't  let  me  slip  !  Hold  the  chair,  some 
body!  Here,  Betsy,  gi'  me  your  shoulder.  Who  ever  see 
sich  an  awk'ard  thing  to  git  into  !  Oh  !  "  with  a  sudden 
scream,  "  that  crick  in  my  back !  It's  killed  me !  Oh, 
dear ! " 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  There  you  be,  gran'mother  !  You'll 
find  that  an  easy  seat  to  ride  on.  How's  your  back  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  wal,  'twon't  trouble  nobody  much  longer,  that's 
some  consolation !  If  I  only  git  to  Sawney  Hook,  I  shall 
have  reason  to  be  thankful.  My  umbreP,  Phoebe  !  I 
thought  everything  was  ready." 

The  umbrella  was  at  hand.  Phoebe  passed  it  up  glee 
fully  with  her  good-by. 

"  I  s'pose  that  means  good  riddance  ! "  muttered  Grand 
mother  Rigglesty.  "  There  hain't  none  on  ye  kissed 
me." 

Mrs.  Jackwood,  to  facilitate  matters,  gave  the  example; 
Phoebe  following  with  an  expeditious  smack. 


190  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Bim,  aside  to  Charlotte:  "Fm  darned  glad  I  ain't  no 
taller  !  » 

Old  lady  :  "  Come,  sonny !  Ye  hain't  ben  a  bit  good  boy 
sence  I  ben  here  ;  but  I'll  kiss  ye." 

Bim  reluctantly :  "  Can't  reach  up  ! " 

Mr.  Jackwood :  "  Come,  boy,  we're  waitin'  for  ye ;  git  up 
in  the  chair.  Kiss  your  gran'mother." 

Bim  stepped  up  ;  made  a  wry  face ;  received  a  kiss ;  and, 
getting  down,  with  a  violent  scowl,  scoured  his  cheek  on 
his  sleeve  as  he  went  to  open  the  gate. 

So  the  modern  Eve  rode  out  of  Paradise  in  Mr.  Dun- 
bury's  buggy,  Mr.  Jackwood  driving.  Like  our  first  par 
ents,  on  a  like  occasion,  — 

"  Some  natural  tears  she  shed,  but  wiped  them  soon  ;" 

the  Good  Samaritan  being  brought  freshly  into  service 
after  Phoebe's  ironing. 

"  Sick  'em,  Kove !  "  said  Bim  recklessly,  as  the  fussy 
shawl  and  hated  bombazine  passed  through  the  gate,  with 
the  faded  cotton  umbrella  spread  against  the  wind. 

Kover  barked;  Phoebe  skipped  and  sang:  and  Mrs. 
Jackwood's  genial  face  looked  smiling  as  a  landscape  after 
a  long  rain.  But  it  was  all  a  weary  pantomime  to  Char 
lotte,  whose  sad  eyes  beheld  the  departure  from  the  kitchen 
window. 

Hardly  had  the  gloomy  umbrella  disappeared,  when 
Mr.  Dunbury  drove  by  with  Hector. 

"Why,  if  they  ha'n't  gone  and  forgot  gran'mother's 
trunk !  " 

And  Phoebe  ran  out,  bareheaded,  screaming  at  the  top  of 
her  voice.  This  was  the  first  intimation  Mr.  Dunbury  had 
received  with  regard  to  extra  baggage,  Corny  having  natur 
ally  forgotten  to  do  his  errand. 

"  You  was  going  without  bidding  anybody  good-by 
too !  "  cried  Phoebe.  "  Didn't  ye  know  Charlotte  was 
here  ?  Wait ;  I'll  tell  her,  —  she'll  come  out." 


PARTINGS  191 

Ah,  there  were  two  hearts  that  throbbed  strangely  at 
those  words !  Happy  Phoebe,  who  knew  nothing  of  the 
agony  of  either! 

Charlotte  had  fled  to  Mrs.  Jackwood's  room. 

"  Why  !  "  cried  Phoebe  ;  "  why  don't  you  come  ?  He's 
waiting." 

"  Say  good-by  for  me,  Phoebe.  It  will  be  the  same  to 
him." 

"  How  you  act,  Charlotte !  You  hain't  been  a  bit  like 
yourself  to-day  !  What  ails  you  ?  " 

"  Do  leave  me,  good  Phoebe  ! "  pleaded  Charlotte. 

Phoebe  complied  reluctantly.  By  this  time  Mr.  Dun- 
bury,  with  Bim's  powerful  assistance,  had  loaded  up  the 
old  lady's  trunk,  and  made  all  ready  for  a  start. 

"  She  won't  come,"  said  Phoebe.  "  I  guess  she  thinks 
you  don't  want  to  see  her.  I  wish  you'd  go  in  a  minute ; 
but  I  s'pose  you  won't.  What  shall  I  tell  her  for  you  ?  " 

A  swelling  grief  in  Hector's  heart  choked  back  the 
little  message  he  would  have  sent.  Yet  he  shook  hands 
with  Phoebe,  and  smiled  upon  her  April  tears,  and  ex 
pressed  a  kindly  wish  at  parting;  and  so  rode  off,  out 
wardly  calm,  but  with  the  insupportable  thought  burning 
and  aching  in  his  soul,  that  the  tragic  curtain  had  fallen 
to  darken  henceforth  between  him  and  her  he  loved 
forever. 


192  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


XIX 

THE    DOVE    AND    THE    SERPENT 

IN  its  better  moments  the  soul  looks  with  clear  vision 
upon  the  confused  drama  of  life,  and  sees  use  and  mean 
ing  everywhere ;  wisdom  and  beauty  ordering  the  scenes  ; 
tragedy  and  comedy,  laughter  and  tears,  joy  and  love,  and 
sin  and  mighty  sorrow,  all  tending  to  the  development 
and  expansion  of  man's  entire  nature. 

But  there  are  times  when,  from  the  shock  of  some 
terrible  experience,  we  grope,  stunned  and  blinded,  amid 
the  ruins  of  happiness,  and  believe  ourselves  the  mere 
playthings  of  chance.  It  was  so  with  Charlotte  now. 
What  this  last  great  trial  was  for  she  could  not  divine. 
Here  she  was  again  in  Mr.  Jack  wood's  house.  Life  there 
was  the  same  as  it  had  been  a  few  short  months  before ; 
but,  in  the  interim,  what  an  existence  had  she  lived ! 

Mrs.  Dunbury  sent  early  for  Charlotte  to  return  to  her 
house.  But  she  could  not  go  back  there.  Hector's  home 
could  not  be  her  home.  Where  he  had  lived,  she  could 
not  be  at  rest. 

"  Do  you  recollect,"  said  Phoebe,  "  the  day  when  Mr. 
Dunbury  called  to  borry  our  wagon,  and  told  us  Hector 
was  coming  home  ?  How  long  ago  it  seems !  Does  it  to 
you  ?  Everybody  thought  one  time  he  was  paying  atten 
tion  to  you  ;  and  I  expected,  much  as  could  be,  you'd  be 
married.  Oh,  do  you  remember  the  stone  he  give  me  for  a 
keepsake,  the  day  you  ketched  me  asleep  by  the  fence  ?  " 
And  Phoebe,  running  to  her  closet,  and  taking  out  the 
cobble,  rolled  it  upon  the  floor.  "It's  like  men's  hearts, 


THE  DOVE  AND    THE  SERPENT  193 

he  said,  and  told  me  to  look  at  it  whenever  I  was  in  danger 
of  falling  in  love.  Ain't  he  the  queerest  mortal  you  ever 
see  ?  But  I  think  he's  splendid  !  —  don't  you  ?  There's 
Bertha  Wing,  and  I  don't  know  how  many  others,  would 
give  their  eyes  to  git  him.  I  know  I  would,"  said  Phoebe 
frankly.  "  But  this  summer  he  never  appeared  to  care  for 
anybody  but  you.  Maybe  you  might  V  got  him, — don't 
you  suppose  you  might  if  you  had  tried?" 

One  afternoon,  Phoebe  came  running  to  Charlotte  in 
high  glee. 

"  You  can't  think  who's  come  !  My  heart  almost  hopped 
out  of  my  mouth  when  I  saw  him  ride  up." 

Charlotte  started,  as  Hector's  image  flashed  momentarily 
before  her. 

"  How  does  my  hair  look  ?  "  cried  Phoebe.  "  Come'  up 
stairs  ;  I'll  put  on  my  delaine  dress.  Mother !  ask  him 
into  the  setting-room.  There's  his  knock  !  " 

Ah !  too  well  poor  Charlotte  knew  that  knock  ;  and  it 
was  needless  now  for  the  excited  Phoebe  to  whisper,  "  It's 
Robert  Greenwich  !  " 

"  I  wonder  if  he  knows  you  are  here  !  "  said  Miss  Jack- 
wood,  closing  the  chamber  door.  "  Though  I'm  sure  he's 
come  to  see  me  !  You  wouldn't  be  surprised,  if  you  knew 
half  the  things  he  said  to  me  the  other  day.  Will  you 
hook  my  dress  ?  How  nervous  I  be !  Don't  you  like 
Robert  ?  What  a  splendid  mustache  he  wears  !  " 

Charlotte  assisted  her  friend  to  arrange  her  dress  ;  and, 
in  return,  Phoebe  generously  invited  her  to  go  down  and 
share  the  visitor  with  her. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  said  Charlotte.  "  If  he  has  called 
to  see  you,  I  should  be  an  intruder." 

The  idea  nattered  Phoebe ;  and  she  had  no  wish  to  urge 
the  point.  Having  taken  a  last  critical  glance  at  her 
beauty  in  the  glass,  and  given  her  "  beau-catchers  "  a  final 
polish,  she  descended  alone,  simpering  and  blushing,  to 
charm  the  smitten  Robert. 


194  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

The  visitor  stayed  nearly  an  hour  ;  during  which  time,  at 
his  suggestion,  Charlotte  was  twice  invited  to  the  sitting- 
room.  But  she  persisted  in  her  determination,  and  at 
length  the  foiled  hypocrite  took  his  leave. 

"  Oh,  I  had  such  a  nice  chat !  "  exclaimed  Phoebe,  running 
up-stairs.  "  Say,  he's  coming  again  !  Have  I  got  pretty 
eyes  ?  " 

"  Did  he  tell  you  so  ?  " 

The  elated  child  smiled  at  herself  in  the  glass,  and  put 
on  self-complacent  airs. 

"  Oh,  I  ain't  going  to  tell !  If  he  did,  I  suppose  it  was  in 
fun.  He  talked  ever  so  much  about  you,  and  asked  how 
long  you  are  going  to  stay  here,  and  whether  you  corre 
spond  with  Hector.  He  said  I  needn't  mention  it  to  you ; 
but  I  didn't  promise.  Would  you  care  if  he  thought  I  was 
handsomer  than  you  ?  " 

Charlotte  smiled.  "  I  should  not  be  at  all  displeased, 
my  dear  Phoebe  !  " 

Phoebe  affectedly :  "  I  don't  say  he  does,  you  know.  If 
he  said  so,  he  probably  didn't  mean  it.  His  mustache  is 
perfectly  bewitching,  any  way  !  " 

Charlotte  ventured  to  utter  a  few  gentle  words  of  warn 
ing  against  the  fascinations  of  that  gay  mustache.  But 
Phoebe  would  not  listen  to  reason. 

"Hector  was  jealous  of  Eobert,  and  prejudiced  you 
against  him,  or  else  you  wouldn't  speak  so.  How  old 
should  you  think  he  was  ?  Not  over  twenty-four,  is  he  ? 
I  shall  be  seventeen  next  July." 

So  Phoebe  chatted  on  the  same  delicious  theme  all  that 
day,  the  next,  and  the  day  after.  On  the  third  day  Eobert 
came  again.  This  time  he  brought  his  sister  Etty,  the 
genius  ;  by  which  stratagem  he  managed  to  compel  Char 
lotte's  presence,  engage  her  in  conversation,  and  make 
Phoebe  jealous.  Miss  Jack  wood  showed  a  good  deal  of 
spite  towards  her  innocent  friend ;  but  when  the  visitors 
had  gone,  Charlotte  talked  with  her  so  reasonably  and 


THE  DOVE  AND    THE  SERPENT  195 

kindly,  showing  her  what  a  little  fool  she  was,  that  she 
gave  vent  to  her  vexation  in  a  shower  of  tears,  embraced 
her  companion,  asked  her  forgiveness,  and  felt  better. 

On  the  following  day  Robert  took  the  girls  by  surprise, 
as  they  were  walking  together  by  the  creek. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  I  should  be  here  again  so 
soon  ?  "  he  cried  gayly.  "  Is  an  excuse  necessary  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Phoebe. 

"  Then  I  wish  my  excuse  would  keep  until  another  time. 
But  the  truth  is,  I  left  a  pair  of  gloves  here  yesterday." 

Phoebe  :   "  I  haven't  seen  any.       What  kind  of  gloves  ?  " 

Robert  entered  upon  a  grave  and  minute  description  of 
the  articles  in  question,  expressing  his  conviction  that  they 
were  on  the  mantelpiece,  under  the  clock  ;  and  it  was  ex 
pected  of  Ph(i3be  to  go  and  find  them. 

"  You'll  wait  for  me  here  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  Go  quick  !  If  you  don't  find  them  under 
the  clock,  look  on  the  bureau ;  if  they  aren't  there,  hunt 
for  'em  in  the  barn.  The  goose  !  "  laughed  Robert ;  "  see 
her  run  !  " 

Charlotte  indignantly  :   "  It's  wicked  to  deceive  her  so  !  " 

"  Then  love  will  have  many  sins  to  answer  for.  Every 
artifice  seems  right  by  which  I  get  near  you." 

"  But  you  have  made  her  believe  you  love  her !  " 

"  The  ninny  !  Did  she  tell  you  so  ?  But  why  so  angry  ? 
I  wish  I  could  think  'twas  jealousy ;  then  I  should  have 
some  hope.  But  we  have  no  time  to  quarrel.  The  simple 
ton  will  be  back  presently,  —  unless  she  breaks  her  neck,  as 
I  devoutly  pray  she  may  !  Have  you  heard  from  Hector  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  hear  from  him  ?     Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  —  I  have  heard  from  him  !  " 

Charlotte  started.  The  deceiver  smiled,  showing  the 
edge  of  his  white  teeth  under  his  mustache. 

"  I  had  a  letter  this  morning.  It  was  written  on  board 
the  Excelsior,  bound  for  California.  Would  you  like  to 
see  it  ?  " 


196  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

She  did  not  speak ;  she  kept  her  large,  intense  eyes  fixed 
upon  a  willow  twig  she  turned  swiftly  round  and  round  in 
her  fingers. 

"  Indifferent,  are  you  ?  "  Again  Robert's  teeth  showed 
their  white  points  beneath  his  mustache.  "  He  mentions 
your  name  —  shall  I  tell  you  what  he  says  ?  " 

Faster  still  beat  Charlotte's  heart ;  faster  still  she  twirled 
the  willow  twig.  Robert  opened  a  letter,  and  read :  — 

"  1 1  had  a  queer  experience  with  that  girl,  Rob.  But  it 
is  all  over  now.  The  spell  is  broken.  I  was  a  great  fool 
where  you  would  have  been  a  great  villain !  '  Compliment 
ary  to  me,  as  ever,  you  see  !  Still,  he  can't  do  without  me. 
He  invites  me  to  meet  him  in  San  Francisco." 

The  light  of  Robert's  eye  and  the  glitter  of  his  teeth 
became  lynx-like  as  he  watched  her.  Her  restless  fingers 
dropped  the  twig.  He  stooped  to  pick  it  up  ;  but  she  put 
her  foot  upon  it. 

"  Show  me  that  letter  ! " 

"  So,  you  have  changed  your  mind  ?  Here  it  is.  But,  since 
you  declined  it  before,  you  shall  give  me  a  kiss  for  it  now." 

"  Give  me  the  letter  ! "  and  down  went  Charlotte's  little 
foot  upon  the  grass. 

Robert  laughed  impudently,  but  she  kept  her  eyes  on 
his,  and  held  out  her  commanding  hand. 

"  The  kiss  !  " 

She  gave  him  a  look  of  angry  scorn  instead. 

"  I  like  your  temper  !  Here,  —  take  the  letter  ! "  But 
Robert  knew  she  would  not  have  it  then.  She  had  turned 
her  back  upon  him  in  high  disdain.  "  At  least,  tell  me  if 
you  have  any  message  to  send  to  Hector,"  and  he  held 
her  arm. 

"  Let  me  go ! "  she  cried,  with  haughty  indignation. 
"  Your  touch  makes  me  shudder  !  Isn't  that  enough  ?  " 

"  You  speak  very  plainly  !  "  said  Robert. 

"  So  I  can  afford  to  speak.  I  have  feared  to  offend  you 
heretofore,  because  it  has  been  in  your  power  to  crush  me." 


THE  DOVE  AND    THE   SEE  PENT  197 

"  Has  been  ?  "  repeated  Robert  significantly. 

"  Has  been,  —  and  is ;  but  I  do  not  care  much  now. 
Come  what  will,  I  am  ready  to  meet  it." 

The  impure  flame  in  Robert's  eyes  could  not  endure  the 
light  of  her  clear  orbs. 

"  You  are  a  noble  girl,"  he  muttered,  stifling  the  rage 
that  stung  him.  "  But  you  wrong  me ;  and  it  is  my  fault 
perhaps.  I  have  not  said  to  you  what  I  would  say,  be 
cause  you  would  never  hear  me.  It  is  from  no  mean  mo 
tive  that  I  follow  you.  I  am  true  and  sincere.  I  would 
make  you  my  wife." 

As  Charlotte  looked  upon  him,  her  whole  form  seemed 
to  undulate  and  expand  with  emotions  that  swelled  up  from 
the  depths  of  her  injured  soul. 

"  A  generous  offer !  AVh.it  more  you  could  have  said,  I 
do  not  know  !  But  it  comes  late.  Still,  surfer  me  to  be 
true.  My  entire  nature  shrinks  at  the  thought  of  giving 
myself  to  one  I  do  not  love.  By  no  law,  human  or  divine, 
can  I  ever,  ever  be  yours.  So  I  have  the  same  answer  for 
you  I  had  before.  You  may  be  vindictive,  or  you  may  be 
generous ;  I  have  no  more  to  say." 

Robert  was  astounded. 

"  Stop  !  "  he  aspirated,  —  "  Charlotte  !  " 

Rejection  only  fired  him  the  more ;  he  was  mad  to  pos 
sess  her  still,  with  all  her  scorn.  He  strove  to  clasp  her ; 
but  she  escaped  his  arm.  He  caught  her  cape ;  and,  tearing 
it  from  her  throat,  she  left  it  in  his  grasp.  Cape  and  letter 
fell  to  the  ground.  \Vith  a  quick,  desperate  step  he  fol 
lowed  her  in  the  meadow,  but  stopped  suddenly,  with  a 
curse  muttered  through  his  teeth,  at  sight  of  Phoebe.  She 
was  approaching,  out  of  breath,  to  tell  him  that  no  gloves 
could  be  found. 

"  Why  !  what  is  the  matter  with  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  We  have  had  a  terrible  quarrel !  " 

Phoebe,  with  great  eyes  :  "  About  what  ?  " 

"  About  you,  darling  !    She  is  jealous,    Watch  her,  Phoebe. 


198  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

I  shall  walk  by  the  corner  of  the  orchard  this  evening  at 
nine ;  meet  me  there,  and  I  will  tell  you  more." 

And,  leaving  Phcebe  flattered  and  excited  by  the  impor 
tant  charge,  Robert  retreated  across  the  field. 

That  night  Charlotte  conferred  with  Mr.  Jackwood, 
whom  she  found  the  same  prompt  and  hearty  friend  as  of 
old.  His  earnest  sympathy,  and  his  ready  promise  of  se 
crecy  and  aid,  brought  tears  of  gratitude  to  her  eyes. 

"  How  shall  I  ever  repay  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  speak  o'  that !  I  only  wish  I  could  do  suthin' 
handsome  by  ye,"  said  the  farmer.  "  Hark  !  who's  there  ?  " 

Phoebe  entered,  with  a  shawl  over  her  head. 

"  I  thought  ye  was  abed  long  ago  !     Where  ye  ben  ?  " 

Phoebe  very  innocently  :  "  Nowheres  —  only  setting 
under  the  stoop  a  little." 

"  And  here  it  is  'most  ten  o'clock  !  Be  ye  crazy  ?  I  hope 
ye  hain't  ketched  yer  death-o'-cold  in  the  night  air.  Go  to 
bed  !  Cha'lotte  an'  me's  havin'  a  talk  'tain't  necessary  you 
should  hear." 

Phcebe,  pretending  obedience,  lighted  a  candle  and  with 
drew.  But  the  young  girl  had  impressed  Charlotte  strangely ; 
and,  having  vainly  attempted  to  pursue  the  subject  on 
which  she  had  been  conversing  with  Mr.  Jackwood,  she 
bade  him  good-night,  and  opened  the  entry  door  just  in 
time  to  hear  a  step  and  the  rustling  of  a  dress,  and  catch  a 
glimpse  of  Phoebe's  candle  vanishing  up  the  stairs. 

On  the  following  day  Phcebe  gave  her  father  no  peace, 
in  her  persistent  efforts  to  draw  from  him  the  secret  of  his 
talk  with  Charlotte. 

"  What  a  botheration  you  be  !  "  exclaimed  the  indulgent 
Jackwood.  "  Will  ye  keep  it  to  yourself,  if  I  tell  ye  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  will  —  if  it's  anything  I  don't  ought  to  tell," 
added  Phoebe,  securing  that  loop-hole  for  her  conscience. 

"  Wai,  I  'xpect  we're  goin'  to  lose  Cha'lotte.  Spite  of 
all  I  can  say,  she  thinks  she  must  be  goin'  away  to- 


THE  DOVE  AND   THE  SERPENT  199 

"  Going  ?  "  echoed  Phoebe,  startled.     "  Where  ?  " 

"  That  I  don'  know  myself ;  only  I'm  to  carry  her  over 
to  the  railroad  in  time  for  the  train  't  goes  north." 

Phoebe  was  touched ;  Phoebe  was  softened  ;  Phoebe  was 
no  longer  jealous.  She  ran  to  Charlotte,  and  threw  her 
arms  around  her  neck. 

"  I  knew  something  was  the  matter  !  "  she  stammered 
forth.  "  You're  going  off,  and  it's  me  that's  made  you  so 
unhappy  you  can't  stay !  And  you  won't  never  forgive  me, 
-  I  don't  see  how  you  can  !  " 

"My  dear  child!"  said  Charlotte  very  tenderly,  "you 
have  been  a  little  unjust  to  me,  but  you  have  a  good  heart j 
and  I  do  forgive  you  most  sincerely." 

"  I'm  ashamed  of  myself  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Jackwood.  "  I 
never  knew  anybody  half  so  good  as  you  be,  nor  anybody 
that  I  ever  loved  half  so  well.  And  I  won't  ever  see  you 
again ! " 

"  Perhaps  not,  dear  child  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  sha'n't  go  !  I  didn't  mean  to  get  Robert  away 
from  you  and  make  you  jealous  !  " 

"  Hush,  foolish  child  !  " 

But  Phoebe  threw  herself  wildly  upon  a  chair,  and  in 
dulged  in  spasms,  and  refused  to  be  comforted  on  any 
account. 

"  Why,  Phoebe  !  "  said  her  mother,  "  you  sha'n't  act  so. 
You'll  break  a  blood-vessel !  " 

Still  Phoebe  tortured  herself ;  nor  would  she  suffer  any 
thing  to  come  between  her  and  her  grief  until  Bim  appeared, 
driving  Rover  in  harness.  The  pleasing  novelty  had  a  sin 
gularly  quieting  effect  upon  her  nerves ;  and,  five  minutes 
later,  she  might  have  been  seen  busily  engaged  in  sewing 
together  strips  of  cloth  for  traces,  with  the  understanding 
that  when  the  silly-looking  cur  was  properly  attached  to 
the  wagon,  she  should  be  allowed  to  drive.  Still  her  grief 
returned  at  intervals,  and  was  very  violent  indeed.  It  did 
not,  however,  prevent  her  from  keeping  an  appointment 


200  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

she  had  made  to  meet  Mr.  Greenwich  that  night ;  and 
afterwards,  going  late  to  bed,  she  slept  so  soundly  that, 
when  called  to  breakfast  next  morning,  she  dreamed  that 
her  mother  was  chasing  her  and  Robert  around  the  orchard 
with  a  broom,  and  crying  to  her  to  stop. 

It  was  a  chill,  cloudy  day;  and,  as  Mr.  Jackwood  drove 
through  the  gate  with  Charlotte,  he  felt  a  raindrop  strike 
his  hand. 

"  Hold  on  !  "  said  he ;  "  we  didn't  put  in  the  umbrel', 
arter  all  !  Fetch  it  'long,  Bim'lech  !  Looks  kind  o'  bad  to 
see  you  start  off  on  your  ja'nt  sich  a  day  as  this,  Cha'lotte. 
Hadn't  ye  better  put  it  off  till  fair  weather,  think  ?  " 

But  Charlotte's  resolution  was  unmoved.  The  time  had 
come ;  and,  dreary  as  the  future  seemed,  she  must  go 
forth  to  meet  it. 

"  Come,  come  !  "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  what's  that  boy 
about  ? " 

"  He's  trying  to  make  Rover  draw  the  umbrella  on  the 
wagon,"  said  Phoebe. 

Bim,  appearing  around  the  corner :  "  Git  up,  Rove ! 
He'p  !  Clear  the  track  !  The  big  team's  comin'  !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  Quit  yer  nonsense,  boy,  an'  bring  along 
that  umbrel'  ! " 

Bim,  stoutly  :  «  Ain't  I  bringin'  it  ?     Whoa,  —  back  ! " 

The  wagon  had  struck  a  post  and  lodged.  While  Bim 
was  disengaging  the  vehicle,  Rover  took  advantage  of  a 
slack  rein,  and,  attempting  to  leap  through  a  favorite  hole 
in  the  fence,  progressed  in  the  undertaking  as  far  as  his 
hindquarters,  when  the  wagon  held  him  fast.  A  terrific 
yelping  ensued,  as  Bim  helped  him  out  of  the  difficulty  by 
the  legs. 

"  There  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  don't  le'  me  see  that 
dog  harnessed  up  agin  to-day  ! " 

He  spread  the  umbrella,  which  Phoebe  handed  up  to  him  ; 
and,  having  once  more  earnestly  counselled  Charlotte  to 


THE  DOVE  AND    THE  SERPENT  201 

postpone  her  expedition,  touched  the  horse  with  the  whip, 
and  drove  away. 

Somehow,  Charlotte  could  not  utter  her  "  good-by."  Yet 
as  the  animal  trotted  slowly  along  the  dusty  road,  amid 
the  pattering  rain,  she  looked  back.  Mrs.  Jackwood 
watched  her  from  the  front  door,  with  a  countenance  full 
of  regretful  and  tender  interest.  Phoebe  stood  at  the  gate, 
waving  her  handkerchief  in  the  air,  and  wiping  her  eyes 
with  it,  alternately.  And  Charlotte  was  once  more  a  home 
less  wanderer  in  the  gloomy  world. 

Patter,  patter,  went  the  dull  rain,  drumming  upon  the 
umbrella,  checkering  the  dusty  bed  of  the  road,  and  rat 
tling  among  the  dry  leaves.  The  sky  grew  darker  still, 
and  a  long  line  of  showers  swept  along  the  misty  mountain 
side.  Then  a  peculiar  smell  of  mould,  exhaling  from  the 
earth,  loaded  the  atmosphere.  The  weather  was  chill,  too, 
and  Charlotte  found  it  necessary  to  wrap  her  shawl  closely 
about  her. 

They  rode  past  Mr.  Dunbury's  house,  and  Charlotte's 
sad  eyes  looked  their  last  upon  the  spot  that  had  been  more 
than  a  home  to  her  in  the  summer  that  was  gone.  The 
house  stood  silent  and  gloomy  in  the  rain  ;  the  windows  of 
Hector's  chamber  were  closed  and  curtained  ;  and  the  little 
portico,  under  which  he  used  to  sit,  was  desolate  and  de 
serted.  The  only  living  object  in  view  was  Corny,  who  sat 
upon  the  fence,  under  the  shelter  of  the  dooryard  trees, 
whittling.  Recognizing  the  half-concealed  face  that  peered 
from  the  sombre  background  of  the  umbrella,  he  poised  his 
knife  and  stick,  nodded,  and  grinned.  Mr.  Jackwood  drew 
rein  a  moment,  to  inquire  after  Mrs.  Dunbury's  health,  and 
to  receive  a  letter  which  Bridget  brought  out  for  Charlotte, 
then  drove  on,  stopping  not  again  until  the  railway-station 
was  reached. 

"  We're  jest  in  time  ! "  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  There 
come  the  cars  !  Not  many  minutes  to  lose,  nuther  ;  for 
they'll  be  off  agin  in  a  jiffy," 


202  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Bell  ringing,  steam  whizzing,  wheels  clanging  and  clash 
ing,  the  engine,  with  the  long  train  behind,  rolled  past  the 
platform  of  the  little  country  station,  and  came  to  a  halt. 
During  the  excitement  of  getting  aboard,  Charlotte  happily 
forgot  everything  else.  She  was  safely  seated,  and  Mr. 
Jackwood  had  barely  time  to  give  her  the  check  for  her 
baggage,  and  bid  her  good-by,  when  the  bell  rang  again,  the 
engine  panted  and  gasped,  and  the  train  was  once  more  in 
motion.  She  returned  the  hasty  pressure  of  his  hand,  but 
she  had  no  words  either  of  farewell  or  of  thanks.  The 
next  moment  he  was  gone  ;  only  strangers  surrounded  her ; 
and  the  terrible  engine  thundered  on  with  the  train  that 
bore  her  swiftly  northward,  to  an  unknown  destiny,  over  a 
dark  and  rainy  land. 

At  first  Charlotte  gave  little  heed  to  external  objects. 
Her  spirit  dwelt  deeply  within  itself.  And  now,  notwith 
standing  the  gloom  and  mist  that  shrouded  the  future,  she 
experienced  a  sense  of  relief,  amounting  almost  to  happi 
ness,  in  the  thought  that  thus  the  past,  with  all  its  errors, 
with  all  its  troubles  and  alarms,  was  swept  behind  her,  as 
it  were,  into  a  gulf. 

Swiftly,  more  swiftly  still,  sped  the  train,  —  on,  on,  on, 
through  woods  and  vales,  over  streams  and  chasms,  under 
the  mountain's  rocky  ribs,  with  echoing  clang  and  roar. 
Charlotte  felt  a  wondrous  joy  swell  in  her  heart  at  this 
wild  speed.  "  Faster,  faster  —  farther,  farther  —  on,  on, 
on  ! "  said  her  soul.  When  the  train  stopped  at  way- 
stations  she  became  impatient ;  she  could  scarcely  keep 
her  seat ;  she  wished  to  fly. 

But  once,  when  the  cars  had  stopped,  she  looked  out  of 
the  open  window,  and  glanced  her  eye  up  and  down  the 
length  of  the  train. 

There  upon  the  platform  stood  the  man  who,  of  all  men, 
she  feared  and  abhorred.  Her  impulse  was  to  withdraw 
instantly  from  view ;  but  already  she  was  observed,  and 
the  detested  face  approached,  wreathed  in  smiles  of  hypo 
critical  surprise. 


THE  DOVE  AND    THE  SERPENT  208 

"  By  what  singular  chance  —  where  in  the  wide  world 
are  you  going  ?  " 

In  the  shock  and  revulsion  of  the  moment  Charlotte 
reached  hurriedly  to  shut  the  window. 

"  The  train  is  off  again  !  "  said  Robert.  "  Since  there  is 
room  in  your  car,  with  your  permission  —  How  singular 
that  we  should  both  be  travelling  the  same  way  !  " 

He  entered  and  placed  himself  by  her  side,  and  once 
more  the  rushing  and  thundering  wheels  bore  her  on  and 
away. 


204  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XX 

"TWO    NEGATIVES    DESTROY    EACH    OTHER" 

"  IF  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  girl  behind  the  counter, 
"  you  have  not  paid  for  the  cakes  and  coffee." 

"If — I  —  please,"  repeated  the  customer,  "I  have  not 
paid  !  Simplicity  or  cunning  ?  You're  a  wonderful  raven  !  " 

He  was  a  tall,  meagre  personage,  with  sunken  cheeks,  a 
sallow  complexion,  restless  eyes,  locks  thin  and  long,  and 
a  fine,  light  beard  flowing  like  a  stream  of  flax  upon  his 
breast.  His  hat  was  bruised ;  his  coat  streaked  with  the 
rain,  and  buttoned  tight  to  his  throat ;  no  linen  visible ; 
boots  and  trousers  bespattered  with  mud. 

"  Ravens  fed  the  prophet  !  "  His  voice  had  a  sepulchral 
sound ;  and  in  speaking  he  started  nervously,  glancing  with 
his  quick,  bright  eyes  from  side  to  side,  with  an  alert 
expression.  "  You  presented  the  cakes ;  you  prevailed 
upon  me  to  accept  coffee ;  and  I  said  Cherith  —  the  brook 
that  is  before  Jordan." 

"The  raven  presents  her  bill,"  suggested  a  glossy  mus 
tache  near  the  counter. 

As  the  speaker's  elbow  touched  the  meagre  stranger's 
sleeve,  the  man  turned,  with  a  shudder,  and,  flirting  his 
arm  violently,  glanced  at  the  ground  with  an  expression  of 
such  loathing,  that  the  spectators  looked  to  see  what  crawl 
ing  horror  had  been  shaken  off. 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  cried  a  bustling  little  lady,  running  to 
the  spot. 

The  stranger  rubbed  his  arm,  a  smile  of  triumph  flitting 
across  his  pallid  face. 


"TWO  NEGATIVES  DESTROY  EACH  OTHER"     205 

"It's  only  a  shilling,"  insisted  the  girl  at  the  counter. 

"  Only  a  shilling,"  ejaculated  the  bustling  little  lady. 
"  Dear  me  !  I  thought  something  had  bit  him  ! "  looking 
along  the  floor  as  if  to  find  the  money. 

"  He  shook  him  off  into  the  fire,  and  he  felt  no  harm  !  '' 
The  stranger  turned  indulgently  to  the  girl  at  the  counter. 
"  Hear  Plato  !  Think  you  that  he  who  possesses  magnifi 
cent  intellectual  conceptions,  and  can  contemplate  all  time 
and  all  being,  can  possibly  consider  —  what  do  you  call 
it  ?  - —  cakes  and  coffee  as  things  of  any  great  importance  ? 
The  same  of  shillings.  With  nothing  that  is  Caesar's,  what 
shall  he  render  unto  Caesar  ?  " 

Here  the  proprietor  of  the  stall,  interposing,  remarked  in 
a  decided  tone  that  he  was  not  Caesar,  and  knew  nothing 
about  Ceesar's  affairs  ;  but  that  if  cakes  and  coffee  had 
been  consumed,  cakes  and  coffee  were  to  be  paid  for. 

"  If  it's  only  a  shilling,"  said  a  gentle  voice ;  and  a  veiled 
female,  opening  a  modest  little  purse,  drew  forth  the  re 
quired  change. 

"Temptation — a vaunt!"  said  the  delinquent  philoso 
pher.  "  The  vulgar  pay ;  but  great  souls  are  exempt." 

He  recoiled  to  let  the  mustache  pass,  but  detained  the 
veiled  female  by  the  fringe  of  her  shawl. 

"  His  home  is  in  the  mud  !  There  let  him  crunch  turtles  ; 
but  keep  him  away  from  the  birds'  nests.  He  is  of  the 
grinning  species,  and  his  breath  is  poisonous." 

With  gentle  force  she  disengaged  her  shawl,  and,  passing 
on,  traversed  a  wet  wharf  at  the  foot  of  the  rainy  town. 
Beyond  lay  a  steamboat,  in  waiting  for  passengers  proceed 
ing  northward  by  the  lake ;  and  in  company  with  a  crowd 
of  umbrellas,  carpet-bags,  bandboxes,  and  hat-boxes,  she 
went  hurriedly  aboard.  The  glossy  mustache  kept  by  her 
side  ;  and  the  bustling  little  lady,  accompanied  by  a  short, 
swaggering  gentleman,  followed  after. 

The  rain-streaked  philosopher  advanced  with  stately 
strides  along  the  wharf  to  the  boat.  At  the  door  of  the 


206  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

ladies'  cabin  he  encountered  the  glossy  mustache,  whose 
wearer  happened  at  that  moment  to  be  engaged  in  biting 
it  somewhat  savagely. 

"  Creep,  you  creature  !  There's  your  element,"  pointing 
at  the  lake.  "  You  are  out  of  your  place  above-board." 

As  Eobert  Greenwich  did  not  stir,  the  other  moved 
cautiously  by  the  door,  stepping  high,  as  if  walking  over 
some  disagreeable  object,  and  passed  triumphantly  into  the 
cabin. 

"  Woman  !  "  the  stranger,  advancing  to  the  veiled  female, 
bent  his  tall  form  before  her,  "  I  beg  your  salutation ! " 

And  straightway  down  he  went  upon  one  knee;  but, 
quick  as  thought,  Charlotte  had  changed  her  place,  leaving 
him  in  that  rather  singular  posture  before  the  vacant  seat. 
Not  the  least  disconcerted,  regarding  the  movement  sim 
ply  as  an  invitation  to  be  seated  beside  her,  he  arose, 
and,  settling  softly  and  reverently  in  the  place  she  had 
occupied,  maintained  a  dignified  deportment  in  view  of  his 
imaginary  honors. 

"  Incognito  ! "  he  said  significantly.  "  But  I  saw  through 
the  veil.  The  south  wind  came  to  my  nostrils ;  it  breathed 
your  name  in  my  ear !  " 

Charlotte  started  with  surprise;  upon  which  a  jubilant 
light  danced  in  the  stranger's  restless  eyes. 

"What  if  I  whisper  it?"  and  his  unshaven  lips  ap 
proached  her  trembling  cheek.  "  The  new  Queen  of  Sheba, 
in  search  of  a  prime  minister  ! " 

If  there  was  any  mirthful  element  in  this  grave  and 
formal  announcement,  Charlotte's  poor  startled  heart  could 
not  see  it. 

"All  was  foreshadowed,  your  majesty  !  A  queen  was  to 
come  out  of  the  south,  and  she  was  to  be  known  by  her 
magnanimity  and  beauty.  And  the  voice  said  unto  me, 
'  Thou  shalt  be  chief  in  the  New  Jerusalem ! '  — that  is, 
your  majesty's  prime  minister.  Hail  to  the  glorious  dis 
pensation  !  No  pollution  of  money,  no  intemperance,  no 


"TTFO  NEGATIVES  DESTROY  EACH  OTHER"     207 

poverty,  no  labor,  except  that  to  which  each  is  impelled  by 
the  affinity  of  his  genius.  The  Seven  Wise  Men  have  the 
credit.  They  are  always  with  me,  —  except  in  potato- 
time  ;  then  bad  spirits  haunt  me." 

Charlotte's  troubled  eye  sought  in  vain  among  the  people 
moving  through  the  cabin  for  some  friendly  face,  to  which 
she  might  look  for  relief;  when,  perceiving  Robert's  sin 
ister  visage  peering  in  at  the  door,  the  thought  came  to  her 
that  these  two  negatives  to  her  happiness,  like  two  nega 
tives  in  a  grammatical  construction,  might  be  made  to 
counteract  each  other. 

"  Do  you  not  observe  that  we  are  watched  ?  "  indicating 
negative  number  one.  "  We  must  not  speak  together  when 
he  is  near." 

Negative  number  two  pointed  triumphantly  at  the  door. 

Negative  number  one  had  disappeared.  Upon  which 
Charlotte  entreated  negative  number  two  to  follow  the 
example. 

"  There's  slime  on  the  threshold,"  said  number  two, 
rising.  "  I'll  spread  down  my  coat  when  your  majesty 
steps  over.  My  armor  shall  be  painted  red,  to  cheat  the 
enemy  with  the  thought  'tis  blood.  But  I'll  ride  a  black 
steed,  and  have  a  mantle  of  darkness,  that  night  and  I  may 
be  of  the  same  color  !  Adieu,  your  majesty  !  When  sent 
for,  I'll  appear." 

No  sooner  was  Charlotte  left  alone,  than  a  chubby,  smil 
ing  face,  with  gold  spectacles  and  a  squint,  moved  over  to 
her  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  cabin.  It  was  the  bus 
tling  little  lady  from  the  wharf. 

"  Do  tell  me  what  strange  being  is  that !  Isn't  he  in 
sane  ?  " 

"  I  think  so  ;  but  I  never  saw  him  until  this  hour." 

And  Charlotte,  eager  for  sympathy  and  protection,  pro 
ceeded  to  relate  the  adventure. 

"  Dear  me  !  how  queer ! "  exclaimed  the  chubby  little 
lady.  "  Ain't  you  afraid  of  him  ?  " 


208  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  Oh,  no !  The  boat  will  start  presently ;  he  will  lose 
me,  and  forget  me,  and  perhaps  go  about  finding  other 
princesses." 

"  But  if  he  should  go  with  the  boat  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  has  no  money  !  " 

"  He  won't  stop  to  think  of  that !  Are  you  travelling 
alone  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  person  on  whom  I  can  depend." 

"  I'll  tell  my  husband,"  said  the  chubby  lady,  "  and  have 
him  speak  to  the  cap'n ;  that'll  fix  it !  You  better  keep 
with  us,  hadn't  ye  ?  " 

Charlotte  gladly  accepted  the  proposal ;  then,  the  chubby 
lady  calling  her  husband,  the  chubby  lady's  husband  con 
sulted  an  officer  of  the  boat,  and  the  officer  of  the  boat 
addressed  the  self-styled  prime  minister.  This  individual 
had  not  only  remained  on  board,  but  he  manifested  a  de 
cided  disinclination  to  going  ashore ;  and,  to  save  him  from 
violent  handling,  Charlotte,  at  the  chubby  lady's  sugges 
tion,  and  in  the  chubby  lady's  company,  left  the  saloon,  to 
speak  to  him. 

"  Salutation,  your  majesty  !  The  alligator  is  gone,  and  I 
keep  guard.  But  here  are  conspirators  !  They  exact  money, 
and  propose  removing  me  from  the  boat.  If  they  do,  the 
boat  shall  go  with  me.  I  have  Chilo's  word  for  it,  in  the 
voice  of  the  sacred  titmouse." 

Chubby  lady,  pressing  forward :  "  Let  'em  do  it ;  then 
have  the  law  of  'em  !  " 

Prime  minister  :  "  One  of  your  majesty's  suite  ?  " 

Charlotte  :  "  She  is  a  companion." 

"  Ah  !  the  Duchess  of  Dingledom !  I  knew  a  duchess 
once.  'As  I  was  going  to  St.  Ives,'  as  they  say  in  the 
arithmetic.  She  had  the  crooked  back  of  a  witch,  and  a 
crooked  nose  and  chin ;  and  in  her  mouth  she  had  a  twitch, 
and  in  her  gait  she  had  a  hitch,  and  in  her  hand  she  carried 
a  switch,  to  aid  her  work  of  sin.  Go  not  too  near  her, 
your  majesty ;  she  has  handled  crawling  things.  What  she 


11  TWO   NEGATIVES  DESTROY   EACH   OTHER"     209 

observed  of  law  savors  of  the  profane.  There  shall  be  no 
litigation  in  our  kingdom." 

Charlotte  :  "  Xor  resistance.  Go  peaceably  from  the 
boat,  will  you  not  ?  " 

Prime  minister  :  "  That's  good  calculation  !  No  offence, 
Dingledom  ?  You're  an  excellent  creature ;  but  you  need 
washing.  If  I  fall  in  with  the  alligator,  there'll  be  teeth 
broken.  Once  more  —  adieu,  your  majesty  !  Good- by,  you r 
grace  !  What  shall  be  the  signal  ?  " 

Charlotte  placed  her  finger  on  her  lips.  The  prime  min 
ister  looked  intelligent ;  bowed  profoundly,  and  glancing 
from  side  to  side  with  quick  starts,  as  if  fearing  surprise, 
marched  over  the  plank  to  the  wharf. 

"  To  think  !  "  exclaimed  the  chubby  lady,  delighted,  "  he 
called  me  a  duchess  !  How  nicely  we  have  got  rid  of  him  !  " 

Ah,  but  there  was  another  who  could  not  be  got  rid  of  so 
easily  !  Charlotte's  mind  reverted  to  Robert,  who  had  gone 
ashore,  and  her  eye  wandered  up  the  street,  to  watch  his 
coming. 

"  Do  look  at  him  !  "  exclaimed  the  duchess,  alluding  to 
negative  number  two.  "Where  'd  he  get  that  pitchfork  ?" 

"  A  lance  to  spear  alligators  !  "  cried  the  prime  minister. 
"The  Seven  Wise  Men  sent  it  by  an  invisible  messenger." 

And,  shouldering  the  implement,  he  marched  to  and  fro 
across  the  wharf,  with  stately  pace,  like  a  sentinel.  He  had 
hardly  commenced  a  second  turn,  when  the  invisible  mes 
senger  became  suddenly  visible,  appearing  in  the  form  of  a 
juvenile  hostler,  in  ragged  trousers  and  a  dirty  shirt,  who, 
standing  agape  to  see  the  steamboat  off,  had  placed  the 
fork  temporarily  against  a  post. 

"  Here  !  "  whined  the  young  Mercury,  running  after  him, 
"  give  it  up  !  They  didn't  send  it  to  ye  !  It's  mine  !  Pa 
wants  it  to  pitch  hay  in  the  shed  !  Come  ! " 

The  prime  minister  chose,  however,  to  consider  him  still 
invisible,  and  continued  his  stately  march,  regardless  of  the 
clamor  at  his  heels. 


210  NEIGHBOE  JACK  WOOD 

"  Le's  stay  out  and  watch  him,"  said  the  duchess.  "  It 
don't  rain  now  ;  and  my  husband  says  the  boat's  going  to 
start  in  a  few  minutes." 

The  bell  began  to  ring,  and  the  passengers  from  the 
wharf  hurried  aboard.  Still  no  Robert  Greenwich ;  and 
Charlotte  conceived  a  trembling  hope  that  he  might  not 
appear. 

"  I  shall  die,  laughing  at  that  crazy  man !  "  exclaimed 
the  duchess.  "  How  funny  the  boy  looks,  with  his  smutty 
face  !  He  is  beginning  to  cry.  I  wonder  why  don't  we 
start  ! " 

The  bell  continued  to  ring ;  the  steam  escaped  with  a 
loud  noise  ;  then  came  three  or  four  sailors,  bearing  a  long 
box.  How  slow  they  were,  thought  Charlotte.  Too  slow, 
alas !  for  while  they  were  still  upon  the  plank  Robert 
Greenwich  appeared,  walking  at  a  rapid  pace  towards  the 
boat.  She  should  have  known  that  one  so  remorseless  arid 
so  resolute  as  he  would  not  be  left  behind. 

"  Why,  what's  the  crazy  man  about  ?  "  cried  the  excited 
duchess.  "  Do  look  at  him  ! " 

Charlotte  looked  with  amazement.  Negative  number 
two,  springing  upon  negative  number  one,  had  dexterously 
thrust  the  fork-handle  between  his  feet,  in  a  manner  to 
trip  and  send  him  headlong  to  the  ground.  Then,  in 
stantly,  the  implement  turning  in  the  air,  the  two  broad 
tines  lighted  astride  the  neck  of  the  fallen  man,  as  he  at 
tempted  to  rise,  and  pinned  him  to  the  wharf.  He  struggled 
and  cried  out ;  but  the  warrior  for  the  truth  thrust  valor- 
ously  ;  and  with  face  in  the  sand,  eyes  starting  from  their 
sockets,  knees  and  elbows  braced  desperately,  and  one  hand 
grasping  the  fork  with  a  furious  endeavor  to  unfix  its  yoke- 
like  embrace,  Robert  bore  not  a  slight  resemblance,  per 
haps,  to  a  writhing  and  twisting  reptile,  of  the  species  to 
which  he  was  supposed  to  belong. 

"  Victory  ! "  shouted  negative  number  two,  "  at  the  sign 
of  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  ! " 


"  TWO   NEGATIVES   DESTROY  EACH  OTHER  "     211 

"  All  aboard ! "  cried  a  voice  of  command.  "  Cast  off 
there  !  " 

The  plank  was  secured ;  the  cables  plashed  in  the  water ; 
the  buzz  of  steam  ceased ;  the  engineer's  bell  tinkled  ;  the 
rushing  wheels  revolved. 

Bystanders,  meanwhile,  ran  to  Robert's  rescue.  The 
overthrower  was  overthrown ;  the  fork  fell  from  his  grasp ; 
the  ragged  urchin  seized  it;  and  while  negative  number 
one,  rising  impetuous,  sprang  to  catch  the  boat,  negative 
number  two  took  discreetly  to  his  heels,  and  fled  with  light 
and  airy  bounds  up  the  street. 

Shouting,  furious,  swinging  his  bruised  and  muddied 
hat,  Robert  flew  to  the  edge  of  the  wharf.  The  steamer 
was  just  beyond  ;  but  a  boiling  chasm  whirled  between. 
He  dared  not  leap;  he  stood  glaring  helplessly  at  Char 
lotte,  from  the  landing.  Just  then  the  sun  broke  through 
a  cloud,  and  poured  a  flood  of  golden  light  upon  the  scene. 
The  foam  sparkled,  the  waves  danced,  the  shore  receded, 
and  the  vessel's  prow  dashed  gayly  through  the  glittering 
waters  of  Lake  Champlain. 


212  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


XXI 

BIM'S    DISCOVERIES 

"  COME,  Phoebe,"  said  Mrs.  Jackwood,  "  empty  the  water 
out  of  the  p'taters  ;  your  father's  come,  and  he'll  want  his 
dinner.  How  absent-minded  you  be  ! " 

Phoebe  stood  looking  vacantly  out  of  the  window,  towards 
the  village. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  whether  I'm  lazy,  or  what's  the  matter 
with  me  !  Ever  since  Charlotte  went,  I  can't  do  anything, 
—  not  even  pare  apples." 

"It's  a  little  more  Robert  Greenwich  than  Charlotte, 
I  guess  ! " 

"I  don't  care;  he's  treated  me  real  mean!  He  hasn't 
been  near  the  house  since  Charlotte  went ;  and  I  bet  he's 
followed  her,  wherever  she's  gone  !  " 

"Let  Eobert  Greenwich  go,  and  'tend  to  what  you're 
doin' ! " 

"  What  on  airth  has  got  into  the  child  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Jack- 
wood,  scraping  his  feet  at  the  door. 

"  I  don't  know ;  she  does  everything  wrong-end  foremost. 
Jest  now  she  come  within  an  inch  of  emptyin'  the  cream- 
pot  into  the  swill-tub  !  If  I  hadn't  screamed,  'twould  'a' 
gone,  sure  as  the  world !  Put  on  that  churn-cover,  now, 
'fore  you  f orgit  it !  You  took  it,  and  what  you  done 
with't,  I  don't  know.  Be  you  crazy,  child  ?  " 

Phoebe,  chagrined  :  "  I  don't  know  but  I  be  !  for  here 
I've  been  emptying  potatoes  and  all  into  the  sink  !  What's 
that  Rover's  got  to  play  with  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  I  warrant,  if  Rover's  in  the  question, 


BIN'S  DISCOVERIES  213 

your  eyes  '11  be  sharp  enough !  I  declare,  —  what  is  it, 
mother  ?  It's  suthin'  't  must  V  got  lost  off  the  line  last 
washin'-day  !  Strange,  folks  can  be  so  careless  !  Here, 
you  pesky  pup  !  " 

"  That's  nothin'  from  the  line,"  retorted  Mrs.  Jackwood ; 
"  we  ain't  so  careless  as  all  that  comes  to.  It's  some  of 
Phoebe's  work,  if  anybody's." 

"  Everything  will  be  laid  to  Phoebe  now,  I  suppose ! 
Well,  I  can  stand  it  !  Why  don't  you  git  it  away, 
father  ?  " 

The  dog  having  paid  no  attention  to  his  first  summons, 
Mr.  Jackwood  made  an  onset  upon  him  with  a  short  switch. 
But  Rover,  if  he  did  not  actually  think  it  was  a  sham 
fight,  meant  to  make  it  one,  and  began  to  whisk  and  caper 
about  the  yard  ;  sometimes  stopping  to  shake  the  garment 
playfully,  or  lying  upon  it  with  his  paws,  and  growling 
valorously,  until  Mr.  Jackwood  came  within  reach  ;  then 
seizing  it  in  his  teeth,  and  darting  away  just  in  time  to 
avoid  a  capture. 

"  I  declare !  "  cried  Phoebe,  "  it  looks  like  Charlotte's 
white  cape  !  " 

"  Can't  be  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood ;  '•  for  Charlotte's  miles 
away." 

"  Maybe  she  is,  and  maybe  she  ain't !  "  replied  Phoebe 
significantly.  "  But  that's  her  cape,  true's  the  world ! 
Now  you  can  get  it !  " 

Rover  had  dropped  the  article  beside  the  path,  and  gone 
to  roll  himself  in  the  dust,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
But  this  was  only  a  ruse ;  and,  as  Mr.  Jackwood  approached, 
he  snuffed,  shook  the  dirt  from  his  ears,  and  lay,  with  his 
nose  upon  the  ground,  ready  for  a  spring.  Mr.  Jackwood 
frowned  ;  Rover  winked  and  looked  knowing. 

"  Rover !  behave  !  " 

"  G-r-r-r-r-r-r  !  "  said  Rover. 

Mr.  Jackwood  measured  his  distance,  and  rushed  sud 
denly  upon  the  disputed  property.  But  Rover,  at  a  pounce, 


214  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

was  there  before  him.  He  caught  the  cape  in  his  teeth ;  as 
it  happened,  however,  somebody's  foot  was  on  one  corner 
of  it ;  and  the  next  moment  somebody's  hand  clutched  the 
loose  hide  about  his  neck.  Rover  pleaded ;  Rover  whined ; 
but  the  hand  held  fast. 

a  Come  here,  sir  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  If  you  can't 
tell  when  folks  are  in  'arnest,  an'  when  they're  in  play,  I'll 
larn  ye,  so  's  't  you'll  know  in  futur' ! " 

« I'll  try  !  I'll  try  !  I'll  try  ! "  yelped  Rover,  plainly 
as  talking. 

"  It's  Bim's  to  blame  !  "  interposed  Phoebe.  "  He's  al 
ways  fooling  with  him  ! " 

Mr.  Jackwood  appeared  to  consider  that  Phoebe  was  not 
far  from  right ;  and,  having  bestowed  a  few  light  cuts 
across  Rover's  back,  dismissed  him  with  a  grave  admoni 
tion.  The  dog  ran  off,  rubbing  his  left  ear  with  his  paw, 
and  lay  down  dejectedly  under  the  wagon. 

Meanwhile  Phoebe  had  possessed  herself  of  the  garment, 
and  taken  it  to  the  house.  Had  it  been  a  common  article 
of  apparel,  it  would  have  attracted  very  little  attention  ; 
but  it  was  a  light  and  graceful  cape  of  Charlotte's  own 
handiwork ;  and  the  fair  figures  her  needle  had  wrought, 
together  with  its  original  delicate  white  color,  rendered  its 
recent  cuts  and  stains  all  the  more  striking  by  contrast. 
What  surprised  the  family  most  was  the  discovery  that 
some  of  the  stains  were  of  blood. 

"  Le'  me  see  it  ! "  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  taking  the  article 
in  his  hand  for  the  twentieth  time.  "  Suthin'  here  ! "  with 
a  profound  expression.  "  Mother,  look  an'  see  if  that  wa'n't 
cut  with  a  knife  !  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  real  frightened  !  "  stammered  Phoebe.     "  I  - 
I'm  afraid  I've  been  to  blame,  some  way.     But  —  I'm  sure 
—  I  didn't  think  I  was  doing  any  wrong." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?     What  have  you  done  ?  " 

"  I  told  Robert  when  Charlotte  was  going  away,  —  I 
don't  know  what  I  did  it  for,  —  but  he  made  me  think  "  - 


BIM' S  DISCOVERIES  215 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  He  made  ye  think  the  moon  was  made 
o'  green  cheese,  if  he  tried  to,  I've  no  doubt !  Didn't  I  tell 
ye  Cha'lotte  wanted  it  kep'  from  everybody  ?  But  what 
has  that  to  do  with  the  cape  ?  " 

"  If  anything  has  happened  to  her,  it's  all  owing  to  me  !  " 
said  the  remorseful  Phoebe.  "  She  was  afraid  of  him,  an' 
one  day  they  had  a  dreadful  quarrel  down  by  the  crick. 
He  said  'twas  because  she  was  jealous  of  me." 

Mrs.  Jackwood :  "  Jealous  of  you !  That's  an  idee ! 
For  my  part,  I  never  imagined  Robert  cared  a  snap  of  his 
finger  for  you  !  " 

"Where's  Uim'leeh,  I  wonder?"  said  Mr.  Jackwood. 
"  That  boy  never' s  in  sight  when  he's  wanted  ! " 

"  What  boy  never's  in  sight  when  he's  wanted?"  cried 
a  blustering  voice  at  the  door. 

Phoebe  :  "  Here  he  is  !  " 

Abimelech  stoutly  :  "  Yes,  here  he  is  !  An'  he'd  like  to 
find  out  who's  ben  lickin'  Rove  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  S'posin'  I  have  ?     What  then  ?  " 

"  Wai  !  "  began  the  younger  Jackwood,  with  a  belliger 
ent  shake  of  the  head. 

«  Wai,  what  ?  " 

"  I'd  —  like  to  know  what  he'd  ben  doin'  —  that's  all  !  " 

"  He  was  tearin'  this  'ere  cape  ;  an'  what  I  want  of  you 
is,  to  tell  how  he  come  by  it." 

Bim  looked  ignorant.     "  What  cape  ?  " 

"  Charlotte's  cape,"  cried  Phoebe.  "  It's  been  cut  and 
tore,  and  there's  blood  on  it !  Where  did  you  find  it  ?  " 

"  Jes'  if  I  found  it  !     What  you  talkin'  'bout  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  sternly  :  "  Look  a-here,  Bim'lech  !  " 

"  Ain't  I  lookin'  hard's  I  can  ?  " 

"  Don't  speak  so  !  I'll  have  that  dog  killed,  if  you're 
goin'  to  be  so  pudgicky  when  he's  whipped  for  gitt'n'  into 
mischief ;  mind,  I  tell  ye  !  Now  speak  the  truth,  and  tell 
us  what  you  know  about  this  'ere  cape  !  " 

Bim  :  «  What  should  I  know  about  it  ?  " 


216  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Phoebe  :  "  He  does  know  !     I  can  tell." 

Bim  :  "  You  can  tell,  a  sight !  Rove  found  it  down  in 
the  meader." 

Mr.  Jackwood  :  "  Bim'lech,  'tend  to  me.  Tell  me  how  it 
come  cut !  " 

"  Rove  tore  it ;  I  was  goin'  to  lick  him  for  't,  if  I  could 
ketched  him." 

"  But  that  was  done  with  a  knife  !  " 

"  'Twas  jes'  so  when  I  found  it,  —  perty  nigh." 

Phcebe  :  "  You  said  Rove  found  it !  " 

«  Wai,  —  what  if  I  did  ?  Wa'n't  Kove  an'  me  together  ? 
An'  ain't  Eove  my  dog  ?  —  say  !  " 

"  That  '11  do,  Phoebe  !  Bim'lech,  do  you  know  anything 
about  this  blood  ?  " 

Bim,  interested  :  «  What  blood  ?  Oh,  that !  You  make 
a  great  fuss  about  an  old  rag,  I  should  think  !  Ain't 
we  goin'  to  have  no  dinner  to-day  ?  Where's  the  wash 
basin  ?  " 

"  Bim'lech,"  said  Mrs.  Jackwood,  "  come  here  ! " 

Bim,  scowling  :  "  What  ye  want  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  held  the  young  gentleman  by  the  collar, 
and,  wetting  the  corner  of  her  handkerchief  with  her 
tongue,  rubbed  it  on  his  cheek. 

"  Come  !  "  exclaimed  Bim,  jerking  away ;  "  what's  that 
for  ?  » 

"  Hold  still !     What's  on  your  face  ?  " 

"  I  d'n'  know  !  What  ?  0  Pheeb  !  you  can't  guess  what 
I  got  ! "  and  Bim  pulled  something  from  his  pocket. 

«  A  letter  !     Where  did  you  git  it  ?  " 

Bim  triumphantly  :  "  I  found  it  with  the  cape  !  " 

Phcebe  :  "  It's  Eobert  Greenwich's  name  on  the  back  ! 
And  there's  blood  on  the  letter  !  Are  you  sure  you  found 
them  together  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  be  !  Wa'n't  the  letter  under  the  cape  ? 
And  didn't  it  drop  out  when  I  picked  it  up  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  can  tell  somethin'  'bout  the  blood,"  said  Mrs. 


BIM'S  DISCOVEEIES  217 

Jackwood.  "  Hold  here  agin,  Bim'lech.  Hain't  you  ben 
havin'  the  nose-bleed  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  had  the  nose-bleed  a  little  !     What  of  it  ?  " 

"  An'  you  got  blood  on  the  cape  !  " 

"  Mebby  I  got  a  little  on." 

"  Bim'lech.  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood  solemnly,  "  step  this 
way  !  Look  me  in  the  eye  !  Now  le's  have  the  truth, 
the  hull  truth,  and  nothin'  but  the  truth." 

"  Wai,  don't  I  ?  " 

"  I  wa'n't  goin'  to  punish  ye.  We  only  wanted  to  know 
the  truth  of  the  matter ;  for  we  was  afraid  suthin'  had  hap 
pened  to  Charlotte.  Now,  was  there,  or  was  there  not, 
blood  on  the  cape  when  you  found  it  ?  " 

Bim,  hesitating  :  "  The  rain,  or  suthin',  had  spotted  it, 
anyway." 

"  And  you  cut  it  with  your  knife  a  little,  didn't  ye  ?  "  in 
a  coaxing  tone. 

Bim  doubtfully  :  "  Le'  me  think  !  Yes,  now  I  remember  ! 
I  did  cut  it  a  little  ;  but  'twas  an  old  thing  !  " 

Phoebe  :   "  Oh,  what  stories  !  " 

"  Phoebe,  I'm  dealin'  with  him !  What  d'  ye  cut  it 
for  ?  » 

"  I  d'no,  — I  thought,"  Bim  began  to  grin,  "  'twould  make 
a  good  jacket  for  Rove,  —  like  that  the  little  monkey  had 
on  to  the  caravan." 

"  Boy  !     Then  you  made  these  holes  ?  " 

Bim  looked  foolish.  "  Wai,  —  I  had  to  make  some  holes 
for  his  legs,  or  it  wouldn't  stay  onto  him." 

"That's  right!"  said  Mr.  Jackwood  approvingly;  "al 
ways  tell  the  truth,  my  son ;  for  liars  never  prosper." 

Phoebe  :   "  I  shouldn't  think  he'd  prosper,  then  !  " 

"  'Sh  !  never  mind  !  he's  done  perty  well.  How  did  you 
git  the  nose-bleed,  my  son  ?  " 

"  He  didn't  like  the  jacket ;  an'  when  I  held  him  to  put 
his  legs  in  the  holes,  he  jumped  an'  kicked,  till  byme- 
by  he  hit  my  nose  the  awfullest  tunk  with  the  back  of  his 


218  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

head  !  Then  he  cut  for  the  house,  with  the  cape  hangin' 
by  his  neck  an'  one  leg." 

"  Why  couldn't  ye  'a'  told  this  in  the  fust  place  ?  " 

Bim,  giggling :  "  'Cause  you  was  all  makin'  sich  a  fuss, 
an'  I  didn't  know  how  hard  I'd  have  to  take  it !  I  meant 
to  tell,  all  the  time ;  but  I  thought  'twouldn't  do  no  hurt 
to  let  on  a  little  to  once." 

"  That  don't  explain  how  the  cape  come  in  the  meader, 
arter  all.  And  Greenwich's  letter  with  it  too  !  I  don't 
s'pose  't  '11  do  any  harm  to  look  at  it,  sence  the  cover's 
open,  an'  find  out  who  wrote  it.  What  name's  that  'ere, 
Phoebe  ?  Your  eyes  are  better'n  mine." 

"  Why,  it's  Hector  Dunbury's  !  " 

"  Hector  Dunb'ry's,  hey  ?  Wai,  I  guess  we'll  set  up  to 
the  table  now  ;  and  arter  dinner,  Bim'lech,  you  can  go  V 
carry  the  letter  over  to  Mr.  Dunb'ry's  folks.  If  it's  from 
Hector,  they've  a  better  right  to  it  than  we  have.  Don't 
be  readin'  it,  Phoebe  !  " 

Phoebe  :  "  I  ain't,  —  but,  — how  strange  !  Hector's  gone 
to  Californy  !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood :  "  Here,  here  !  you  sha'n't  read  it !  Can't 
be  he's  gone  to  Californy  !  His  folks  'u'd  know  suthin' 
'bout  it,  if  he  had." 

Phoebe :  "  Just  let  me  make  out  this  sentence.  It's  some 
thing  about  Charlotte." 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Come,  Bim'lech,  take  off  your  cap,  an' 
wash  your  face,  if  you're  goin'  to  Mr.  Dunbury's.  Don't 
throw  your  cap  !  I  declare  for  't !  " 

Bim,  flinging  his  cap  at  the  sink-shelf,  had  missed  his 
aim,  and  sent  it  plump  into  the  churn.  A  tumult  en 
sued,  as  Mrs.  Jackwood,  in  great  trepidation,  fished  it  out, 
and  hastened  to  hold  it,  with  the  dripping  cream,  over  a 
milk-pan. 

Bim,  with  bravado :  "  You  might  keep  the  churn  covered 
up!" 

Mrs.    Jackwood :    "  How   many   times   did   I   tell   you, 


BIN'S   DISCOVERIES  219 

Phoebe  !  It's  well  for  both  of  ye  't  I've  got  my  hands 
full  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  did  with  the  cover,"  said  Phoebe, 
still  clinging  to  the  letter. 

"  Come.,  come  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  Have  I  got 
to  take  it  away  from  yon  by  main  force  ?  " 

Phoebe,  relinquishing  her  hold  :  "  I  don't  think  Hector 
speaks  very  well  of  Charlotte,  anyhow  !  That's  the  way 
with  men,  though  ;  and  I  suppose  Robert  will  write  to  him 
the  same  about  me  !  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  :  "  Father,  do  set  that  child  to  doin' 
suthin'  !  If  yon  can't  think  of  anything  else,  take  the 
pie  out  of  the  oven.  Then  hunt  for  that  chnrn-cover  till 
you  find  it." 

Phoebe  opened  the  oven-door.  There  was  no  pie  there  ; 
but  in  its  place  she  found  the  missing  churn-cover,  baked 
brown,  and  so  hot  that  she  dropped  it  on  the  floor  with  a 
scream. 


220  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XXII 

MORNINGS    IN    MONTREAL 

AN  old  gentleman,  in  a  loose  suit  of  drab,  with  a  white 
cravat,  a  white  whisker,  and  a  thin  fleece  of  white  hair 
frizzled  all  over  his  head,  took  off  his  hat  (a  white  one)  to 
the  clerk  of  a  second-class  hotel  in  Montreal. 

"  I  wish  to  see  a  —  a  Miss  —  a  Miss  "  The  white 

gentleman  hesitated,  and  fumbled  in  his  breast  pocket. 
"  I've  forgotten  the  name,  and  left  the  letter  at  home.  I'll 
glance  at  your  books,  if  you  please." 

"  Presently,"  said  the  clerk ;  "  as  soon  as  this  gentleman 
is  done  with  them." 

The  gentleman  referred  to  was  a  gay  young  fellow  with 
a  mustache  ;  precisely  such  a  mustache,  by  the  way,  as 
Phoebe  Jackwood  so  much  admired,  and  pined  to  behold 
once  more,  on  Huntersford  Creek.  The  wearer  looked  up, 
with  a  questioning  air,  at  the  clerk. 

"  Mr.  Sperkley's  party  arrived  here  the  twelfth  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  said  the  clerk  ;  «  night  before  last." 

«  Is  Mr.  Sperkley  in  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Sperkley  is  out  this  morning." 

"Thank  you;  I  will  call  again,"  and  the  mustache  re 
tired. 

"Sperkley, —  Sperkley,"  repeated  the  white  gentleman, 
referring  to  the  register.  "  That  is  the  name  I  was  to  in 
quire  for,  I  think.  '  Mr.  Sperkley,  lady,  and  friend  ; '  and 
it's  the  friend  I  desire  to  see.  Is  she  in  ?  " 

"  A  young  lady ;  ay,  —  I  think  so.  Shall  I  send  up  your 
name  ?  " 


MORNINGS  IN  MONTREAL  221 

The  white  gentleman's  card  being  despatched  to  Mrs. 
Sperkley's  apartment,  answer  was  promptly  returned  that 
the  ladies  would  meet  him  in  the  public  parlor.  Hardly 
had  he  sat  down  to  wait  for  them,  when  a  bustling,  chubby 
little  woman  entered,  bright  and  smiling  as  the  sun,  and 
breathless  with  running  down-stairs.  She  was  dressed  in 
stiff,  rustling  silks,  and  wore  heavy  jewels  in  her  ears  and 
on  her  fingers  ;  gold-bowed  spectacles  on  her  nose,  a  mas 
sive  chain  of  gold  about  her  neck,  and  a  watch  and  gold 
pencil  in  her  belt. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  she  cried,  with  a  hearty  demonstra 
tion  of  friendship.  "  Have  you  seen  my  husband  ?  " 

"  Your  husband  ?     Is  this  Mrs.  Sperkley  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  this  is  Mrs.  Sperkley,"  with  an  air  which  seemed 
to  say,  "  Don't  you  think  it's  a  pretty  nice  Mrs.  Sperkley, 
after  all  ?  "  —  "  And  you  are  Mr.  Holyland  ?  " 

"  Longman  was  the  name  on  my  card." 

"  Longman  ?  Dear  me  !  how  could  I  make  that  mistake, 
and  read  it  Holyland  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  see  a  young  lady  who  is,  I  think,  in  your 
company." 

"  Oh,  the  person  we  got  acquainted  with  aboard  the  boat ! 
She  has  been  expecting  some  one  to  call.  I'll  speak  to  her." 

She  rushed,  rustling,  from  the  parlor.  The  white  gentle 
man  looked  dissatisfied,  and  walked  the  room  as  if  he  were 
more  than  half  inclined  to  walk  out  of  it,  and  out  of  the 
hotel,  and  out  of  the  society  of  Mr.  Sperkley,  lady,  and 
friend,  forever.  His  expression  brightened,  however,  when 
the  door  again  opened. 

"  Miss  Woods  ?  "  Charlotte  smiled  assent,  and  he  gave 
her  his  hand.  "  I  received  your  note,  accompanying  Mrs. 
Dunbury's  letter,  last  night,  but  at  too  late  an  hour  " 

"  Do  not  apologize,"  said  Charlotte,  embarrassed.  "  You 
are  but  too  kind  to  come  to  me  at  all.  On  Mrs.  Dunbury's 
recommendation  I  ventured  to  apply  to  you.  I  am  here,  a 
stranger ;  and  what  I  desire  is,  to  find  some  situation  "- 


222  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Leave  that  to  the  future,"  replied  the  white  gentleman. 
"  How  are  you  situated  here  at  the  hotel  ?  " 

"Comfortably  as  could  be  expected,  I  suppose." 

"  And  your  friends  ?  " 

"  Friends  ?     I  have  none." 

rt  I  mean  the  Sperkley  family." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Charlotte,  with  a  smile,  "  I  may,  perhaps, 
call  them  friends ;  for  they  have  been  kind,  and  helped 
me  through  difficulties  in  travelling  that  I  could  hardly 
have  surmounted  alone.  But  they  are  chance  acquaint 
ances." 

"  So  much  the  better  !  Now,  I'll  tell  you  what ;  without 
any  ceremony,  and  with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  you 
shall  leave  this  house,  and  go  home  with  me.  So  much 
accomplished,  we'll  see  what  else  can  be  done.  One  thing 
at  a  time,  is  my  motto." 

It  had  been  so  far  from  Charlotte's  expectation  or  design 
to  intrude  upon  anybody's  hospitality,  that  the  offer  ap 
peared  all  the  more  welcome  to  her  homelessness.  The 
white  gentleman,  having  a  small  business  matter  to  attend 
to  in  the  same  street,  took  leave,  but  returned  promptly 
in  half  an  hour.  Charlotte  was  ready  for  a  departure,  and 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  exchange  "  good-bys  "  with  Mrs. 
Sperkley. 

"Our  acquaintance  has  been  very  pleasant,"  said  the 
duchess,  making  an  affecting  demonstration  with  her  hand 
kerchief.  "  I  am  very  sorry  to  lose  you  so  soon  ;  and  re'ly, 
I  shall  have  a  good  cry  over  it  when  you  are  gone  ! " 

The  little  woman  exhibited  something  of  the  genuine  ore 
of  human  feeling,  as  well  as  a  good  deal  of  the  dross ;  and 
Charlotte,  in  whom  the  faintest  show  of  kindly  sympathy 
on  the  part  of  others  never  failed  to  awaken  grateful  emo 
tions,  returned  her  boisterous  kiss  with  a  quiet  touch  of 
her  pure  lips,  accompanied  with  an  earnest  inward  prayer 
for  her  happiness.  At  parting  the  duchess  wished  her  to 
accept  a  gold  ring,  which  she  drew  from  her  finger,  as  a 


MORNINGS   IN  MONTREAL  223 

memento  ;  but  Charlotte  smilingly  declined  it,  and  it  went 
back  to  its  place  on  the  chubby  red  hand. 

A  few  minutes'  ride  brought  Charlotte  and  her  com 
panion  to  a  plain,  sober  little  house,  pleasantly  located,  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  town.  This  proved  the  residence 
of  the  white  gentleman  ;  and  here,  disembarking  with  her 
baggage,  she  was  welcomed  to  her  new  home  by  one  of  the 
pleasantest  faces  she  had  ever  met. 

"  My  daughter,  Mrs.  Lawrence  Longman,"  said  the  white 
gentleman. 

She  was  not  beautiful ;  she  was  pale  and  faded  ;  but  there 
was  something  exceedingly  tender  in  her  expression,  which 
drew  Charlotte  to  her  at  once. 

"  I  was  sure  my  father  would  bring  you  home  with  him," 
said  Mrs.  Lawrence.  "  Your  room  is  all  ready  for  you." 

It  was  a  cosey  little  chamber,  the  windows  of  which 
looked  out  upon  a  garden  and  a  country  road.  On  entering 
it,  Charlotte  was  thrilled  with  happy  surprise.  She  glanced 
around  her  ;  she  gazed  from  the  window  ;  she  turned  her 
suffused  eyes  upon  the  smiling,  tender  face  of  the  gentle 
woman  who  had  given  her  so  rich  a  welcome. 

"  You  see  what  a  foolish  creature  I  am  !  "  said  she,  with 
a  smile  brightening  through  tears.  "  P>ut  I  cannot  help  it ! 
such  good  things  happening  to  me,  when  I  expect  them  so 
little  !  " 

The  gentle  woman  whispered  a  word  of  cheer,  and  glided 
from  the  room.  It  was  an  hour  of  deep  and  holy  emotion 
to  Charlotte.  Her  gratitude  to  God,  and  to  the  friends  he 
had  given  her,  arose  to  rapture ;  feeling,  as  she  did,  that 
she  had  at  last  reached  a  haven  of  rest  and  safety. 

When  next  she  met  Mrs.  Longman,  the  young  girl's 
appearance  had  undergone  a  surprising  change.  She  was 
attired  with  a  simplicity  amounting  almost  to  homeliness  ; 
but  the  charm  of  her  figure,  and  the  spirit  of  beauty  and 
grace  that  breathed  about  her,  amply  compensated  for  the 
lack  of  external  adornments.  She  had  dressed  her  hair 


224  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

carefully,  however ;  and  to  that,  perhaps,  she  owed  no  small 
part  of  her  personal  attractions.  In  the  luxuriant  arrange 
ment  of  its  rich,  soft  masses  she  had  displayed  all  the  natu 
ral  exaltation  and  exuberance  of  her  spirits.  No  jewel  on 
her  head  or  about  her  person,  save  a  simple  golden  cross  upon 
her  neck.  It  was  a  trifle  Hector  had  given  her,  —  the  only 
gift  of  his  she  had  consented  to  retain,  —  and  this  was  the 
first  occasion  on  which  she  had  worn  it  since  they  parted. 
Her  countenance  was  tranquil  and  happy ;  yet  there  was  a 
softening  sadness  in  it  still,  which  rendered  it  all  the  more 
winning.  Her  large,  soft  eyes  were  wonderfully  bright  and 
melting.  Mrs.  Longman  regarded  her  with  quiet  admiration. 

"  And  how  did  you  leave  Mrs.  Dunbury  ? "  that  lady 
asked.  "  I  am  sorry  Hector  has  gone  again.  He  appears 
to  have  a  roving  disposition.  Is  his  mind  as  changeable  as 
his  habits  ?  I  am  not  much  acquainted  with  him ;  I  never 
saw  him  but  twice,  and  that  was  years  ago.  He  was  then 
a  handsome,  high-spirited  boy,  —  adventurous,  but  very 
fond  of  his  mother.'7 

Poor  Charlotte  managed  to  say,  — 

"  He  is  your  cousin  ?  " 

"  A  sort  of  second  cousin,  —  and  that  only  by  marriage. 
Mr.  Longman  is  Mrs.  Dunbury' s  uncle ;  and  I  am  Mr. 
Longman's  daughter-in-law.  I  wish  I  knew  the  family 
better.  Ah,  Mrs.  Dunbury  says  such  lovely  things  of  you 
in  her  letters  ! " 

"  Her  letters  !  "  said  Charlotte. 

"  You  did  not  know,  then,  that  we  received  one  from  her 
only  a  few  hours  before  the  one  you  brought  arrived  ?  It 
appears  she  could  not  express  herself  sufficiently  in  the 
note  she  had  sent  by  you,  so  she  afterwards,  on  her  sick 
bed,  took  occasion  to  tell  us  more  about  you." 

"  She  is  too  kind ;  you  must  not  believe  half  she  says." 

"  One-half  will  be  enough !  But  come,  I  want  my  mother 
to  see  you.  She  is  aged,  and  a  little  capricious ;  she  has 
grown  quite  impatient  about  you." 


MORNINGS  IN  MONTREAL  225 

The  mother  —  or  rather  the  mother-in-law  —  was  an 
emaciated  old  lady,  with  an  ear-trumpet,  a  snuff-box,  and 
an  extremely  feeble,  small  voice.  She  proved  to  be  very 
deaf  and  very  peevish.  She  made  Charlotte  sit  up  close  to 
her  chair ;  and,  giving  her  the  mouthpiece  of  the  trumpet, 
while  she  held  the  other  extremity  of  the  tube  to  her  ear, 
conversed  with  her  from  the  depths  of  the  pillows  in  which 
her  attenuated  frame  was  almost  hidden  from  view. 

Charlotte  had  been  nearly  a  week  with  her  new  friends, 
when  one  morning,  as  she  was  keeping  the  old  lady  com 
pany,  she  was  aroused  by  an  occurrence  in  the  adjoining 
room.  The  door  was  unclosed,  and  she  heard  Mrs.  Longman 
exclaim,  — 

"  Edward,  where  did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  From  Paradise,  by  the  back  door,"  replied  a  voice 
which  made  Charlotte  start,  and  strain  her  ear  to  catch  the 
faintest  intonation.  "  Do  you  know  what  that  means  ?  It 
means  quibble-quabble.  The  world  is  all  a  fleeting  show. 
Give  me  a  glass  of  water/' 

"  Sit  down,  Edward,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence  Longman 
kindly.  "  AVill  you  take  some  wine  ?  You  look  weary." 

"  I  have  been  in  the  wilderness,  tempted  of  the  Devil.     I 

wouldn't  care,  if  I  had  not  torn  my  trousers.    When  this  old 

hat  ivas  new,  —  sing  me  that  hymn;  I  think  it  is  something 

melancholy,  tending  to  reflection.    And  I  was  young  and  <j<uj, 

—  we  are  older  now,  Sal !     And  wiser;  did  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  And  wiser,"  repeated  Mrs.  Longman. 

"  I  like  you,  Sal  !  "  said  Edward  affectionately.  "  But 
there  is  a  deal  of  milk-and-water  in  your  composition." 

"  Drink  the  wine,  Edward." 

"  The  milk  of  human  kindness,  and  the  water  that  de 
lights  thirsty  souls.  That's  better  than  wine.  Good  Sal ! 
you  are  one  in  ten  thousand.  I  would  kiss  you  but  for  my 
oath."  The  speaker's  eyes  glittered,  and  his  voice  sank  to 
a  whisper.  "  I  stood  on  the  shore,  and  saw  the  ship,  rich- 


226  NEiGHBOE  JACKWOOD 

freighted  with  my  happiness,  sail  out  of  sight  in  the  dis 
tance.  The  Princess  of  Sheba's  ship,  —  did  I  tell  you  ?  " 

Edward  seated  himself  in  an  attitude  of  deep  thought- 
fulness,  holding  his  dilapidated  hat  in  one  hand,  and  the 
glass  in  the  other.  His  long  flaxen  beard  streamed  down 
and  touched  the  wine,  as  he  bent  forward,  resting  his  elbow 
on  his  knee.  Mrs.  Longman  stood  by,  sad  and  patient, 
waiting  for  him  to  drink. 

"  Prophecy  is  a  fearful  gift."  He  raised  his  head,  and 
shook  the  wine-drops  from  his  beard.  "  She  shall  reign ; 
but  one  is  to  be  sacrificed.  Broken  ice  and  water."  He 
seemed  to  be  gazing  at  some  picture  far  away,  and  his  fin 
ger  waved  softly  in  the  air.  "  The  river  that  flows  through 
Sheba  ;  'tis  perilous  crossing.  Sal !  "  starting  with  exulta 
tion,  "  they've  shown  me  my  epitaph  !  'Tis  to  be  written 
in  fire,  on  a  monument  high  as  the  moon !  " 

Mrs.  Longman  came  softly,  and  closed  the  door. 

"  What  is  there  ? "  cried  the  old  lady,  agitating  her 
pillows.  "  Tell  me  ;  no  secrecy  !  Why  is  the  door  closed  ? 
Quick  !  " 

And  the  feeble  hand  extended  the  mouthpiece  with  an 
impatient  gesture.  Charlotte  replied,  through  the  tube, 
that  some  person  was  talking  with  Sarah. 

"  Who  ?  Don't  keep  me  in  suspense !  I  shall  die  !  Oh, 
dear  !  why  don't  you  speak  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  who  it  is." 

"  Don't  know  ?  You  must  know  !  You  are  deceiving 
me !  Sarah  has  no  right "  — 

"  She  calls  his  name  Edward." 

"  Edward  !  Is  he  here  ?  Why  don't  he  come  at  once  to 
his  mamma  ?  Why  does  she  keep  him  ?  " 

Charlotte,  rising:  "I  will  speak  to  her." 

"No  !  "  whistled  the  feeble  voice;  "don't  leave  me  !  I 
shall  know  nothing  if  you  do.  They  take  advantage  of 
my  infirmities  ;  they  impose  upon  me  in  all  sorts  of  ways. 
Poor  Edward !  He  has  been  out  of  his  mind.  Oh,  it's  now 


MORNINGS  IN  MONTREAL  227 

five  years  or  more !  A  disappointment.  That  was  the 
beginning  of  it.  So  he  is  home  again,  is  he  ?  It  runs  in 
the  family,  —  hereditary,  you  know.  Sarah's  husband, 
Lawrence,  —  he  was  my  oldest,  —  committed  suicide.  I 
went  to  the  garret  one  day,  and  found  him  hanging  from  a 
rafter.  I  never  got  over  the  shock.  It  all  came  of  his 
meeting  an  old  flame.  They'd  been  engaged,  I  can't  re 
member  how  many  years  before.  lie  had  married  a  new 
fancy ;  and  when  he  saw  the  other  again,  they  had  a  des 
perate  time.  It  almost  killed  Sarah.  It's  in  the  Long 
man  family,  not  in  mine.  Mr.  Longman  had  a  nephew 
who  went  the  same  way.  A  brother  of  Mrs.  Dunbury,  you 
know,  Hector's  uncle.  We  used  to  think  Hector  would  be 
like  him,  —  how  is  it  ?  " 

Charlotte  shuddered ;  the  picture  the  invalid  once  had 
drawn  of  her  son's  possible  fate  recurring  with  startling 
vividness  to  her  mind.  At  this  juncture  the  widow  en 
tered  the  room ;  to  whom  Charlotte  gave  a  rapid  account 
of  her  meeting  with  Edward  in  her  northward  journey. 

"  What  are  you  talking  ?  "  cried  the  old  lady.  "  Here  !  " 
giving  Sarah  the  tube,  "  tell  me  all  about  it.  Don't  omit 
a  word." 

"  Presently,"  said  Sarah.     "  Edward  is  coming." 

Charlotte  glided  out  by  another  door  as  he  entered. 
At  sight  of  his  haggard  face  and  tattered  clothes  the  old 
lady  began  to  weep.  He  regarded  her  compassionately. 

"  The  creature  they  used  to  call  my  mother  !     How  long 
has  she  been  a  weasel  ?     There  shall  be  no  old  age  in  our 
kingdom.     And   no   tears  either,   except  liars'  tears !  " 
through  his  teeth,  —  "  and  they  shall  weep,  weep,  weep ! 
Could  a  princess  tell  a  lie  ?  " 

"  What  does  he  say  ?  "  squeaked  the  old  lady. 

"  When  sent  for,  I  shall  appear ;  and  so  I  told  her 
majesty.  Ha !  "  his  countenance  lighted  up,  as  he  glanced 
from  the  western  window,  "  the  sun  sets  red ;  there  is 
danger  brooding  for  to-morrow  ! " 


228  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Tell  me,  quick  !  Here  ! "  The  old  lady  agitated  her 
tube.  "  Edward,  speak  to  your  poor  mamma  !  " 

"I  bestrode  that  sun  once,  and  rode  him  through  the 
heavens  till  I  bumped  my  head  against  the  darkness ! 
Sal ! "  pointing  eagerly  at  the  sky,  "  do  you  mark  the 
phantom  horseman  ?  He  gallops  through  a  sea  of  lire  !  " 

"  Kiss  me,  my  boy  ! "  whimpered  the  old  lady. 

"  Since  Christmas  I  have  seen  five,  —  brave  riders  all ! 
One  swims  the  wave  on  a  dolphin ;  that's  Cupid.  One 
dives  through  the  bowels  of  the  earth;  that's  Avarice. 
And  one  careers  on  the  mountains  ;  that's  Ambition.  This 
one  is  nameless ;  but  where  he  rides,  men's  wits  are 
troubled." 

Already  a  servant  had  been  despatched  for  Mr.  Long 
man.  He  was  not  far  from  home.  He  returned  speedily ; 
and,  finding  his  son  in  so  unusual  a  state,  he  sent  in  haste 
for  the  family  physician. 

Sleep,  said  the  doctor,  was  chiefly  necessary  to  restore 
Edward's  mind  and  body  to  their  ordinary  condition.  But 
he  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  take  any  repose. 

"  I  kicked  Morpheus  out  of  bed  nine  days  ago ;  since 
then  we  have  been  strangers.  What  if  her  majesty  sends, 
and  finds  me  napping  ?  " 

Neither  reason  nor  entreaty  could  influence  him.  He 
walked  the  room,  restless,  talking  wildly.  At  length 
Sarah  suggested  that  Charlotte  should  be  invited  to  exert 
her  power.  The  others  consented ;  and  presently  the 
"  princess  "  appeared. 

Was  it  his  imagination  only,  or  something  in  the  mag 
netism  of  her  gentle  spirit,  that  wrought  so  wonderful  a 
change  in  his  entire  demeanor  ?  His  countenance  grew 
placid,  his  movements  less  sharp  and  abrupt,  his  eye  less 
wild  and  glaring ;  he  became  obedient  and  tractable  as  a 
child.  The  same  extreme  sensitiveness  to  personal  in 
fluences  that  caused  him  to  start  and  shudder  at  the  ap 
proach  of  impure  spheres,  seemed  also  to  have  revealed  to 


MORNINGS   IN  MONTREAL  229 

him  some  innate  excellence  in  Charlotte,  to  which  he  owed 
allegiance.  At  her  request  he  consented  first  to  take  a 
warm  bath,  then  to  be  put  to  bed  ;  and,  having  exacted  her 
promise  that  she  would  have  him  waked  without  fail  be 
fore  the  ship  sailed,  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  soon  sank  into 
a  profound  sleep. 

"  A  visitor  to  see  Miss  Woods,''  said  the  widow,  in  the 
forenoon  of  the  next  day,  showing  her  benign  countenance 
in  Charlotte's  chamber. 

"  Me  !  "  echoed  Charlotte,  turning  pale. 

A  rapid  train  of  thought  passed  through  her  mind. 
Robert  Greenwich,  returning  to  Huntersford,  and  learning 
the  address  of  Mrs.  Dunbury's  relatives  in  Canada,  had 
hastened  to  trace  her  to  her  last  place  of  refuge  —  this 
was  what  she  feared.  But  Mrs.  Longman  relieved  her  with 
the  welcome  intelligence  that  the  visitor  was  a  lady. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Sperkley  !  "  said  Charlotte. 

"  What  a  time  I  have  had  finding  you  !  "  exclaimed  the 
little  woman.  "  It's  curious,  as  I  said  to  my  husband, 
that  I  never  thought  to  ask  your  address.  I'd  forgotten 
Mr.  Longman's  name  too  ;  and,  just  think  !  the  very  next 
day  after  you  had  gone,  a  young  gentleman,  who  says  he 
has  something  of  great  importance  for  you,  came  to  inquire 
about  you." 

"  A  young  gentleman  !     Who  ?  " 

"  I  declare,  I  can't  speak  his  name  !  Strange  ;  for  him 
and  my  husband  got  very  intimate,  and  played  billiards  to 
gether,  and  I  don't  know  what  all." 

"  Does  he  wear  a  mustache  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  a  very  handsome  one  !  " 

"  Isn't  he  the  same  person  who  was  detained  from  the 
steamboat  by  the  insane  man  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  cried  the  duchess ;  "  and  I  thought  I  had 
seen  his  face  somewhere.  But,  then,  I  should  think  he'd 
have  spoken  of  it.  The  way  he  found  us  was  queer.  He 
couldn't  see  your  name  on  any  of  the  hotel  books  ;  so, 


230  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

when  he  saw  our  arrival  registered  as  Mr.  Sperkley,  lady 
and  friend,  he  thought  you  must  be  the  friend. " 

"  And  —  where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  the  duchess,  "  him  and  my  husband  has  gone 
down  to  Quebec  together,  on  some  kind  of  a  speculation. 
My  husband  is  a  great  speculator ;  he  trades  in  watches 
and  di'monds  and  all  sorts  of  things.  Well,  when  I  was 
left  all  alone,  and  didn't  know  what  else  to  do  with  myself, 
what  should  I  find  in  my  workbox  but  the  very  card  Mr. 
Longman  sent  up  to  us  the  day  he  came  to  the  hotel.  And 
what  did  I  do  but  give  it  to  the  landlord,  and  tell  him  to 
find  out  where  such  a  man  lived.  That  was  easy  ;  and  here 
I  am.  I  knew  you  would  be  glad  to  see  me  ;  for  I  said  to 
myself,  says  I,  though  maybe  she  won't  care  much  about 
me,  she'll  be  pleased  to  hear  from  the  young  gentleman. 
You  may  depend  upon  seeing  him  just  as  soon  as  he  gets 
back  with  my  husband.  You  know  what  he  has  for  you  a 
great  deal  better  than  I  do." 

"  Whatever  it  is,"  said  Charlotte,  "  I  do  not  wish  to  re 
ceive  it." 

"  You  don't  say  ! "  cried  the  astonished  duchess. 

'*  It  was  expressly  to  prevent  his  finding  me  that  I 
requested  your  husband  not  to  register  my  name  on  the 
books  of  the  hotel.  And  I  hope,"  added  Charlotte,  almost 
weeping  with  vexation,  "  that  you  will  not  do  me  so  unwel 
come  a  kindness  as  to  send  me  any  such  friends.'7 

"  Why,  I  am  sure,  I  can't  understand  that !  " 

"  No ;  I  don't  expect  you  to.  Do  not  try  to ;  do  not 
think  of  it  any  more ;  do  not  think  of  me.  I  have  felt 
very  grateful  for  your  kindness  to  me  ;  but  I  beg  you  will 
not  give  yourself  any  more  trouble  on  my  account." 

In  a  little  while  the  duchess  took  her  leave.  Charlotte 
did  not  invite  her  to  call  again  ;  and,  as  she  saw  her  ride 
smilingly  away  in  the  cab,  she  devoutly  hoped  that  the 
light  of  that  beaming  face  might  never  shine  upon  her 
pathway  more. 


PROSPECTS  231 


XXIII 

PROSPECTS 

CHARLOTTE  placed  so  little  confidence  in  Mrs.  Sperkley's 
discretion,  that  she  expected  nothing  more  than  to  see  Mr. 
Robert  Greenwich  immediately  on  his  return  from  Quebec 
with  the  travelling  trader  in  diamonds.  In  the  meantime, 
her  friends  had  succeeded  in  finding  a  position  for  her  as  a 
companion  to  a  wealthy  dowager.  The  news  was  imparted 
to  her  shortly  after  the  departure  of  the  duchess.  It  only 
remained  for  her  to  see  the  lady,  and,  if  they  were  mutually 
pleased  with  each  other,  to  accept  the  situation.  The  fol 
lowing  day  was  fixed  for  the  interview. 

Mrs.  I)e  Rohan  was  a  person  of  benevolent  aspect  and 
mild  address.  Charlotte  entered  her  presence  with  fear 
and  trembling ;  but  a  smile  reassured  her.  She  was  de 
lighted  with  the  thought  of  attending  upon  so  kind  a 
lady  ;  and  her  only  apprehension  now  was  that  her  services 
might  not  be  accepted. 

"  I  see  but  one  difficulty  in  the  way,"  observed  the  dow 
ager.  "  You  say  the  more  quiet  and  retired  your  life,  the 
better.  Now,  I  intend  soon  to  commence  a  series  of  jour 
neys,  which  will  terminate  in  the  good  Old  Country,  in  the 
course  of  a  year  or  two ;  and  I  shall  expect  you  to  accom 
pany  me." 

Charlotte's  pulse  leaped  with  joy.  With  nothing  to  bind 
her  to  the  past  but  ties  her  spirit  longed  to  sever,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  she  welcomed  a  future  smiling  from  the  cloud 
which  had  darkened  before  her  so  long. 

Yet  the  joy  was   tempered  with   deep   and   saddening 


232  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

thoughts ;  and  may  we  not  guess  what  image  of  lost  love 
rose  tremulously  before  her  then  ? 

That  night  Charlotte  dreamed  of  Hector.  She  went 
with  Mrs.  De  Rohan  to  San  Francisco,  where  she  found 
him  waiting  for  her  under  some  dooryard  trees,  which 
bore  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  those  in  front  of  his 
father's  house.  His  voice  and  smile  were  real ;  and  all 
things  glowed  with  a  happy  blue-and-golden  light,  —  ex 
cept  the  weather,  which  Charlotte  found  very  cold.  It 
was  so  cold  that  she  awoke ;  when  she  discovered  the 
fresh  morning  air  blowing  upon  her  bed.  She  had  left  her 
window  partly  open,  on  retiring,  and  the  wind  had  changed 
during  the  night. 

So  much  for  her  dream ;  but  all  that  morning  Hector's 
image  haunted  her,  and  she  chided  herself,  not  only  for 
thinking  of  him,  but  for  entertaining  such  fancies  even  in 
a  dream. 

Mr.  Longman  sent  for  her  to  visit  his  unfortunate 
son. 

"  He  has  somehow  conceived  the  notion  that  you  are 
going  to  desert  him,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  in  his  sub 
dued  voice.  "  You  alone  have  any  influence  with  him  ;  and 
I  have  faith  to  think  that,  if  you  would  consent  to  remain 
with  us,  his  reason  might  be  restored.  I  know  what  a 
sacrifice  it  will  be  for  you  j  but,  if  gratitude  can  repay 
you  "  — 

Mr.  Longman's  white  eyelashes  winked  away  a  tear. 
His  words  troubled  Charlotte  ;  and  having  paid  Edward 
a  visit,  and  rendered  him  quiet  and  obedient  to  the  wishes 
of  his  friends,  she  withdrew  to  her  chamber  to  consider 
what  it  was  her  duty  to  do. 

The  engagement  with  Mrs.  De  Rohan  seemed  too  advan 
tageous  to  be  abandoned.  It  promised  freedom  and  a  new 
life.  On  the  other  hand,  if  she  could  work  a  vital  benefit 
to  any  fellow  unfortunate,  was  tlie  opportunity  to  be  neg 
lected  ? 


PROSPECTS  233 

She  determined  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  her  thoughts 
until  the  following  day,  and  sat  down  to  write  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Dunbury.  She  had  not  finished  the  sheet,  when  a 
servant  appeared,  to  inform  her  that  there  was  a  gentleman 
below,  waiting  to  see  her.  She  could  scarce  refrain  from 
uttering  a  cry  of  distress ;  but  instantly  her  mind  was  made 
up :  she  determined  not  to  go  down. 

"  He  did  not  give  his  name,"  said  the  servant. 

"  It  was  unnecessary,"  replied  Charlotte.  "  No  gentle 
man  would  call  on  me  whom  I  wish  to  see  to-day.  Say  to 
him,  I  am  engaged." 

She  was  incensed  against  herself  because  Robert  Green 
wich  still  had  power  to  flutter  her  nerves  and  quicken 
the  movements  of  her  timid  heart.  She  did  not  know  how 
agitated  she  was  until  the  servant  had  disappeared,  and  she 
once  more  took  up  her  pen  to  write.  In  a  moment  the 
subject  she  had  been  weighing  in  her  mind  that  morning 
was  decided.  "  I  will  go  with  Mrs.  De  Rohan.  Then  let 
him  follow  me  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  if  he  will  ! " 

The  servant  reappeared.  "  The  gentleman's  compli 
ments  ;  and  if  Miss  Woods  is  engaged,  he  will  wait  in  the 
parlor  until  she  is  ready  to  see  him." 

"  What  effrontery  !  Let  him  wait,  then  !  No ! "  she 
exclaimed,  calling  the  servant  back ;  "  I  will  go  down  !  " 

Five  minutes  later  she  entered  the  parlor.  Her  color 
was  heightened ;  an  expression  of  pain  and  dread  was 
written  upon  her  brow ;  but  her  large  eyes  beamed  with  a 
clear  and  steady  light,  and  her  step,  her  carriage,  and  the 
curving  of  her  mouth,  were  haughty  and  resolute. 

She  turned  to  the  corner  where  the  visitor  stood.  He 
had  been  pacing  the  floor,  and  on  her  entrance  had  halted 
where  she  found  him ;  but,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he 
advanced. 

"  Charlotte  !  "  breathed  a  voice  whose  tones  thrilled  in 
every  fibre  of  her  frame. 

"  Hector !  "  she  cried  out,  in  wild  and   eager  surprise  ; 


234  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

then  turning  with  a  gesture  of  despair,  she  threw  herself 
upon  the  sofa,  hiding  her  face  from  his  sight. 

He  went  and  stood  by  her  side.  He  bent  over  her,  put 
ting  aside  the  curls  from  her  cheek,  and  kissed  the  hand 
that  hung  over  the  arm  of  the  sofa.  His  very  touch  be 
trayed  the  tumult  in  his  breast. 

"  Speak  to  me  !  look  at  me  !  Why  do  you  turn  from  me 
so?" 

"  I  thought,"  she  said,  in  a  stifled  and  broken  voice,  "  I 
thought  you  were  —  another  !  " 

"  Perhaps,  then,  if  you  had  known,  you  would  not  have 
deigned  to  see  me  ! " 

"  Yes  ;  I  will  be  plain  and  true  with  you.  I  would  ;  but 
I  should  have  been  prepared :  I  should  not  have  been  sur 
prised  by  this  weakness." 

"  You  had  no  presentiment,  ever  so  shadowy  and  vague, 
that  I  would  come  ?  " 

"  None  ! "  exclaimed  Charlotte ;  "  or,  if  I  had,  I  dis 
missed  it  as  the  vainest  dream  of  my  life." 

Hector  seated  himself,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her  arm 
with  a  touch  that  thrilled  her  still.  "  Tell  me,  Charlotte, 
are  you  not  conscious  of  an  influence  that  chains  you  to 
me,  and  me  to  you,  inevitably  ?  Go  down  into  the  deepest 
and  purest  recesses  of  your  heart,  and  find  the  response  !  " 

"  If  ever  I  thought  so,"  answered  Charlotte,  "  then  I  was 
deceived." 

"I  believe  in  one  only  great  and  overmastering  love," 
said  Hector.  "  By  its  magnetism  soul  is  bound  with  soul, 
as  sphere  to  sphere  in  the  heavens.  It  has  an  astrology  of 
its  own,  that  reveals  heart  to  heart  at  any  distances.  If 
in  my  wanderings  from  you  I  have  not  felt  your  spirit 
following  me,  and  drawing  me  back,  —  if  when  farthest 
from  you  I  have  not  been  with  you,  and  you  with  me, 
continually,  —  then  there  is  no  wisdom  or  virtue  in  me  !  " 

"  Oh,  but  when  I  told  you  my  history,  your  love  was  not 
proof  against  that !  You  said  it  placed  life  and  death  be- 


PROSPECTS  235 

tween  us.  You  left  me  with  those  words.  I  did  not  blame 
you ;  but,  if  you  felt  so  once,  you  will  again.  I  should  not 
dare,  I  should  not  dare,  after  that " 

"  I  am  not  here,"  said  Hector  "  to  make  weak  excuses 
for  weak  conduct.  I  acted  then  only  as  he  whom  you 
knew  as  Hector  could  act.  Trial  and  absence  were  neces 
sary  to  self-knowledge.  The  moment  you  were  shut  from 
my  sight,  I  saw  the  stupendous  folly,  the  guilt,  of  sacrifi 
cing  all  that  could  make  true  happiness  for  me  on  earth,  to 
the  paltry  considerations  of  expediency.  I  had  sold  my 
birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage.  I  had  given  love,  the 
life  of  my  life,  to  fatten  an  unworthy  pride.  One  day 
I  visited  a  public  show,  and  saw  living  doves  put  into  the 
cages  of  serpents.  I  recognized  the  image  of  my  own  sin. 
I  had  been  feeding  -my  doves  to  serpents.  Now,  call  me 
changeable,  if  you  will,  reproach  me  for  the  wrong  I  did 
you;  but  here  I  am.  obedient  not  to  any  caprice,  not  to 
inclination  or  passion  merely,  but  to  the  deepest  convictions 
and  holiest  promptings  of  my  nature." 

Charlotte  looked  in  his  eyes.  They  were  pure  as  the 
unclouded  heavens.  They  filled  her  with  such  strange  and 
perilous  sensations  that,  alarmed  at  herself,  she  turned 
away. 

"  But  the  serpents  —  I  will  never  give  them  cause  to 
turn  their  rage  against  me  !  " 

"  If  they  had  not  been  killed,  I  should  not  be  here," 
said  Hector.  ki  What  pledge  can  I  give  you  ?  I  know  of 
none  but  that  of  a  life  devoted  henceforth  to  you." 

"  And  that  I  cannot,  you  know  I  cannot,  accept !  Do  not 
torture  me  more  !  Think  of  what  I  am ;  think  of  yourself  ! 
Remember  your  mother,  too,  who  is  so  proud  of  you  !  " 

"  If  her  pride  is  a  true  pride,"  he  said  with  noble  enthu 
siasm,  "  she  will  rejoice  that  her  son  had  the  courage  to  set 
his  heel  upon  prejudice  and  conventionality,  and  stand  by 
your  side,  in  the  face  of  the  world." 

"  Your  heart  is  too  generous  ! "  she  replied,  in  a  calm, 


236  NEIGHBOE  JACKWOOD 

low  voice.  "Such  sentiments  cannot  be  taken  into  the 
world  and  lived.  An  impassable  gulf  divides  us  ;  I  feel  it, 
if  you  do  not ;  and  I  shudder  when  you  draw  me  to  the 
brink." 

Hector  had  expected  opposition,  but  nothing  like  this. 
She  spoke  in  fearful  earnest;  and  he  knew  it. 

"  If  you  tell  me  this  because  you  do  not  love  me,  I  am 
satisfied.  I  will  not  plead  one  moment.  But  it  is  you,  now, 
who  are  untrue,  both  to  yourself  and  me." 

She  faltered,  and  he  took  her  in  his  arms.  It  was  a 
moment  of  intense  suffering,  suffused  with  an  indefinable 
happiness,  which  his  mere  presence  shed  about  her  like 
dew.  But  she  hastened  to  recover  herself,  and  put  him 
gently  from  her. 

"  If  you  did  not  know  your  power  over  me,  at  least  you 
know  it  now !  "  she  said,  with  touching  pathos.  "  But,  if 
you  are  generous,  you  will  not  use  it.  Whatever  weakness 
I  may  show,  my  resolution  is  unshaken.  My  future  is 
already  planned." 

She  spoke  of  her  engagement  with  Mrs.  De  Rohan.  The 
reviving  joyousness  with  which  she  expressed  her  anticipa 
tions  of  crossing  the  ocean,  and  of  thus  embracing  a  des 
tiny  in  which  he  had  no  share,  filled  him  with  insupport 
able  pain.  But  when  she  added  that  she  had  not  forgotten 
England  was  his  fatherland,  and  that  when  there  she 
should  think  of  him  often,  he  sprang  impetuously  to  his 
feet. 

"  Often !  indeed  !  I  have  no  more  to  say  !  I  might  be 
satisfied  with  often  !  Henceforth  my  lips  are  sealed  !  0 
Charlotte  "  He  paused ;  the  younger  Mrs.  Longman 

was  at  the  door. 

Hector  explained  to  his  relative,  with  his  customary 
frankness,  that  he  had  not  come  to  Montreal  on  a  visit. 

"  On  arriving  home,  two  nights  ago,  I  learned  that  Miss 
Woods  had  deserted  my  mother.  She  was  languishing  in 
her  absence.  I  said,  'I  will  follow,  and  bring  her  back/ 


PROSPECTS  237 

But  she  has  made  different  arrangements,  and  all  that  re 
mains  for  me  is  to  return  alone." 

At  this  crisis  a  note  was  handed  in  "for  Miss  Woods." 
The  eagerness  with  which  she  opened  and  read  it  did  not 
escape  his  jealous  eye.  He  judged  it  to  be  from  Mrs.  De 
Kohan.  He  was  not  mistaken ;  it  was  a  request  for  Char 
lotte  to  call  upon  her  that  morning. 

"  How  long  will  you  be  gone  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Longman. 

"  Possibly  a  greater  part  of  the  day.  I  can  walk,"  said 
Charlotte;  "it  is  not  far,  and  I  need  the  exercise." 

"  It  is  too  far,"  said  the  widow.  "  Hector  shall  drive 
you  in  the  chaise." 

Charlotte  left  the  room.  She  was  absent  near  half  an 
hour,  when,  returning,  with  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  she 
placed  a  letter  in  Hector's  -hand. 

"  If  you  will  give  that  to  your  mother  "  —  her  voice  was 
tremulous,  her  eyes  fell,  and  he  saw  that  in  her  hand  she 
held  another  letter,  which  she  hesitated  to  give  him. 

"  I  am  going  with  you,"  he  said.  "  If  you  prefer  to  walk, 
we  will  walk  ;  but  the  chaise  is  at  the  door." 

"  As  you  please,"  replied  Charlotte. 

"  Do  you  remember  our  first  ride  together  ?  "  he  asked, 
as  he  helped  her  into  the  chaise.  "  And  the  catastrophe, 
Charlotte  ?  —  when  you  clung  to  my  arm,  and  our  souls 
knew  each  other,  in  the  hour  of  danger  ?  Oh,  what  a  life 
time  'twixt  then  and  now  !  Then  and  now  !  "  he  repeated, 
as  they  rode  away.  "  Oh,  strange,  strange  !  And  you  — 
you  »  - 

A  passion  of  grief  seemed  bursting  in  his  voice  ;  but  he 
checked  it,  and  fixed  his  features  firm,  and  drove  on  in 
silence. 

"We  are  close  by  Mrs.  De  Rohan's  house,"  she  said  at 
length.  "  Speak  to  me  one  last  kind  word,  which  it  will  be 
pleasant  to  remember,  if  I  should  not  see  you  again;  will 
you  not  ?  " 

"  Charlotte  !  "    exclaimed    Hector,  "  we  do  not  part  so  ! 


238  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

You  do  not  know  in  what  an  abyss  I  feel  myself  sinking  » 
the  thought  of  it.  All  my  bitter-and-sweet  experience  u} 
to  this  hour  serves  but  to  make  a  separation  unendurable. 
And  now  —  now  —  to  have  your  own  choice  decide  against 
me;  to  see  you  depart  free  and  joyous  in  the  pathway  of  a 
new  existence,  in  which  I  have  no  part,  —  Charlotte !  it 
cannot  be !  " 

"  You  misunderstand    me ! "    she   said  ;  "  but    I   cannot 
answer  you  now.     I  must  stop  here.     This  is  the  house." 
"  The  house  will  wait  for  us  half  an  hour." 
"  No ;  I  will  stop  now.     If  you  wish  to  see  me  again, 
come,  and  I  will  ride  back  with  you." 

"  Give  me  that  letter  you  have  for  me,  and  I  will." 
"  I  wrote  it  when  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you  again ;  but, 
since  you  are  to  call  for  me  "  — • 

"  The  letter  !  "  exclaimed  Hector.  She  gave  it  to  him. 
He  accompanied  her  to  the  door;  she  entered,  and,  return 
ing  to  the  chaise,  he  hid  himself  in  the  corner  of  the  seat, 
and  read  the  letter. 

*  It  was  the  sweetest  yet  bitterest  morsel  his  eyes  had 
ever  devoured.  In  the  first  half  Charlotte  had  disclosed  a 
depth,  a  purity,  and  intensity  of  love,  in  words  which  came 
all  alive  and  glowing  from  her  soul.  But  in  the  concluding 
portion  she  expressed  an  irrevocable  decision  to  fulfil  her 
engagement  with  Mrs.  De  Rohan,  and  stated  peremptory 
reasons  that  forbade  the  very  thought  of  a  union  with 
Hector.  One  page  ne  kissed  with  passionate  fervor ;  the 
other  he  struck  and  crushed,  in  the  torture  which  it  in 
flicted.  He  was  still  tormenting  himself  in  this  manner 
when  Charlotte  reappeared.  They  rode  on  for  some  dis 
tance  in  silence. 

"Well,"  said  Hector,  at  length,  "tell  me!" 
"  I  cannot  tell  you  what  you  want  me  to,"  she  replied. 
"  You  still  hold  to  the  decision  expressed  in  this  letter  ?  " 
A  tremulous  "  Yes  "  was  the  response.     "  Will  you  give 
it  back  to  me  ?"  added  Charlotte. 


PROSPECTS  239 

He  took  the  letter,  and,  tearing  off  the  last  page, 
scattered  it  in  fragments  upon  her  lap. 

"  That  part  is  unworthy  of  you  !  The  rest  is  dear  to  me, 
and  1  shall  keep  it." 

Another  silence.  She  gathered  up  the  fragments,  and 
destroyed  them. 

'•Hector/'  she  said,  at  length,  "I  am  not  going  with  Mrs. 
De  .Rohan."  Joy  leaped  in  Hector's  heart,  "'Because  I 
cannot,"  added  Charlotte.  "  Even  Providence  seems  work 
ing  against  me  !  She  still  wishes  it,  but  she  has  decided 
to  go  South,  and  spend  the  winter  in  Mobile." 

At  dinner  that  day  Hector  appeared  in  his  best  mood. 
His  cheerfulness,  his  simple  and  sweet  wisdom,  his  flash 
ing  wit,  and  the  soft  radiance  of  his  eye,  charmed  his  rela 
tives.  The  welcome  intelligence  that  Charlotte  would 
probably  remain  a  while  in  the  family  had  rendered  them 
susceptible  to  happy  influences ;  and  their  appreciation 
drew  him  on.  Their  sympathy  filled  the  cup  that  over 
flowed  again  to  them.  And  the  fact  that  Charlotte  was 
herself  a  listener  was  to  his  mind  as  morning  to  the  lark. 
No  matter  what  the  conversation  was  ;  every  theme  he 
touched,  however  lowly,  —  like  troughs  and  swine  in  the 
landscape  of  the  artist,  —  received  a  ray  of  the  Supreme 
Beauty.  All  this  without  any  pedantry  or  display  ;  but 
his  imagination  shed  its  radiance  as  it  passed,  as  natur 
ally  as  the  sun.  Charlotte  never  spoke ;  but,  troubled, 
trembling,  happy,  her  spirit  drew  near  and  sat  at  his  feet 
to  listen.  After  dinner  she  could  not  refrain  from  thank 
ing  him  for  teaching  her  so  much. 

"  I  never  heard  even  you,"  she  said,  "  talk  like  that  be 
fore." 

"  Because,"  replied  Hector,  "when  you  knew  me  before, 
I  had  not  lived  the  life  I  have  lived  since." 

Charlotte  pondered.  Hector  was  indeed  changed.  Surely 
he  had  set  his  feet  upon  chains  that  fettered  him  before. 
A  sweet  voice  within  her  whispered  that  here  was  truth  to 


240  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

be  trusted,  —  that  here  was  indeed  a  noble  and  heroic  love. 
Had  she  done  justice  to  herself  and  him  ?  Was  it  right 
that  the  words  he  had  uttered  that  morning,  thrilling  her 
so,  should  be  turned  away,  like  singing  children,  from  the 
door  of  her  heart,  because  she  was  fearful  of  thieves  ?  Oh, 
too  delicious  thought,  that  they  might  be  entertained  in 
the  innermost  chamber  of  love's  fond  belief  ! 


THE  JUDGMENT  241 


XXIV 

THE    JUDGMENT 

THAT  evening  Hector  and  Charlotte  sat  conversing  in 
the  parlor  ;  Mrs.  Longman  had  withdrawn,  and  they  were 
left  alone.  The  clock  struck  nine. 

"  How  the  hours  fly  !  "  said  Hector.  "  The  door-bell 
takes  up  the  echo,  —  unwelcome  sound  !  —  but,  as  there 
can  be  no  callers  for  us,  we  will  forestall  an  interrup 
tion." 

He  led  the  way  to  a  small  side-room  communicating  with 
the  parlor.  Scarcely  had  they  passed  the  door,  when  a  ser 
vant  announced,  "  A  gentleman  to  see  Miss  Woods."  Both 
started,  and  murmured  simultaneously  a  hated  name. 

"  Shall  I  see  him  ?  "  asked  Charlotte. 

"  As  well  now  as  ever,"  replied  Hector. 

A  brief  delay  was  necessary  for  her  to  collect  her 
thoughts,  and  summon  strength  for  the  interview.  Then, 
filled  with  a  deep,  unruffled  happiness,  which  she  had 
drawn  from  Hector's  presence  and  sympathy,  she  entered 
the  parlor  and  stood  before  the  visitor,  waiting  for  him  to 
speak. 

"  You  will  not  take  my  hand  ?  " 

No  word  or  motion  in  reply  ;  but  she  looked  tranquilly 
upon  him  from  her  serene  height. 

"  Nor  speak  to  me  ?  "  added  the  visitor,  with  a  strug 
gling  desperation  in  his  tone. 

The  unutterable  scorn  with  which  she  regarded  him  was 
her  sole  response. 

"  My  God  !  "  groaned  Robert,  in  a  burst  of  passion,  "  I 


242  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

am  the  most  wretched  of  men  !  If  you  would  do  me  a 
kindness,  strike  that  into  my  heart !  " 

He  threw  himself  upon  his  knees,  and,  springing  open 
the  long  bright  blade  of  a  dirk-knife,  placed  its  handle  in 
her  hand.  A  wild  impulse  seized  Charlotte  ;  she  grasped 
the  weapon.  Robert  saw  the  fire  kindle  in  her  eye.  For 
an  instant  she  was  a  splendid  savage.  Her  features  dark 
ened  and  contracted ;  and  the  point  was  at  his  breast. 

"  Do  not  hesitate  !  It  is  the  least  cruel  thing  you  have 
done  to  me,  —  strike  !  " 

She  flung  the  weapon  behind  her,  on  the  floor. 

"  Arise  !  "  she  commanded  ;  "  this  is  too  ridiculous  !  " 

Robert  started  up,  and  reached  for  the  knife.  But  it  had 
disappeared. 

"  Give  it  me  !     I  will  end  myself  !  " 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  Charlotte ;  "  don't  be  melodramatic  ! 
Why  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  my  destiny  !  Mrs.  Sperkley  told  me  of 
you,  and  made  me  promise  not  to  come ;  you  see  how  easily 
I  broke  my  word !  I  knew  you  would  scorn  me.  You  have 
seen  in  me  —  you  see  in  me  —  only  the  villain  ;  and  villain 
enough  I  was,  and  am,  God  knows  !  But  my  love  for  you 
has  been  my  greatest  fault.  It  has  prompted  me  to  seize 
you,  to  hold  you,  to  make  you  mine  forever,  at  all  hazards  ! 
Had  Hector's  possessed  half  the  intensity  of  mine,  he  could 
never  have  deserted  you ;  he  would  be  now  at  your  feet." 

«  Oh  —  shameful  ! "  exclaimed  Charlotte,  "  to  call  your 
baseness  love,  to  compare  yourself  with  him,  when  no 
one  act  of  yours,  in  all  your  dealings  with  me,  has  been 
prompted  by  aught  but  the  most  utter  and  eager  selfish 
ness  !  And  now  to  speak  of  LOVE  ! " 

Robert's  frame  shook.  "  The  conviction  that  I  have 
brought  all  this  upon  myself  fills  me  with  red-hot  rage  !  I 
might  have  made  you  my  wife,  —  but  a  cursed  pride  re 
strained  me  ;  and  so  I  appeared  all  unworthy,  as  indeed 
I  was  !  But,  since  I  would  now  repair  that  error  "  — 


THE  JUDGMENT  248 

"  Do  not  speak  of  what  you  might  have  done,  or  of  what 
you  would  do  now  !  If  ever  I  felt  gratitude  towards  you,  I 
now  feel  only  abhorrence  and  pity  !  If  this  is  what  you 
came  to  hear,  it  is  said  ;  I  can  say  no  more.  Go  !  " 

She  returned  towards  the  side-room ;  but,  seeing  her  form 
about  to  disappear,  he  sprang  after  her,  and  clasped  her 
hand.  With  an  exclamation  of  loathing  she  attempted  to 
fling  him  off. 

"  N"o  !  no  !  "  he  muttered,  with  fierce  determination.  "  I 
will  sooner  kill  you,  and  die  myself,  than  leave  you  so  !  " 

But  his  arm  suddenly  fell  from  her;  his  face  grew  white. 

"  Here  is  your  silly  toy,"  said  Hector,  displaying  the 
dirk,  and  snapping  the  blade  in  twain.  "  If  it  were  not  for 
soiling  my  hands,  I  would  hurl  you  from  the  window.'' 

Charlotte  trembled  with  a  sort  of  fearful  pride  in  Hec 
tor's  power.  His  address  was  grimly  gracious,  full  of  quiet 
but  terrible  menace.  Hubert  breathed  hard  ;  even  his  char 
acteristic  audacity  failed  him  then. 

"  Your  prophecy  has  come  true,"  he  said  with  a  pallid 
grimace.  "  We  have  met." 

"  But  we  have  not  parted ! "  answered  Hector.  "  We  have 
an  account  together,  which  may  as  well  be  settled  now." 

'•  The  sooner  the  better  !  "  said  Robert  doggedly. 

"  A  dark  and  heavy  score  is  marked  against  your  name, 
llobert  Greenwich  !  "Twould  take  too  long  to  read  you 
every  item,  but  the  sum  total  is  —  V  ILL  ANY  !  " 

"  How  have  I  wronged  you  ?  " 

"  How  have  you  wronged  me  ?  Oh,  outrage  against 
reason  !  How  have  you  wronged  right  and  truth  ?  How 
have  you  wronged  her  ?  r'  Hector  brought  Charlotte  face 
to  face  with  him,  and  looked  at  both.  It  was  like  an  angel 
standing  before  a  fiend,  and  accusing  him  only  by  the  bright 
ness  of  purity  shining  in  her  face.  A  lurid  vengeance 
gathered  in  Robert's  visage. 

i;  But  that  I  disdain  excuses,  I  could,  by  one  word,  ac 
quit  myself  towards  her  !  " 


244  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Hector  nodded  ironically.  "  By  all  means  speak  that 
word  ;  for,  by  the  same,  we  may  restore  lustre  to  the 
blackened  characters  of  St.  Judas  and  St.  Herod !  " 

"  You  are  duped  !  "  said  Robert.  "  She  has  been  careful 
not  to  tell  you  what  she  was,  and  what  I  did  for  her.  I 
will  tell  you  !  "  and  a  devilish  exultation  gleamed  in  his 
eyes.  "  She  was  —  she  is  " 

A  light  buffet  from  Hector's  palm  shattered  the  word 
upon  his  lips.  Charlotte  grew  pale ;  but  Hector  stood  calm 
and  smiling  before  his  quivering  antagonist. 

"  This  blow,"  said  Robert,  —  "'twill  be  revenged ! "  He 
smiled  a  ghastly  smile.  "  We  shall  meet  again  !  " 

"  If  you  desire  the  happiness,  after  we  part,  this  night," 
said  Hector,  "  amen  !  but  we  shall  see." 

"  Yes  —  we  shall  see  !  You  know  me  !  "  said  Robert. 
"  I  do  not  forget ;  I  do  not  sleep  upon  an  injury.  Indeed, 
we  shall  see  !  " 

He  moved  towards  the  door.    Hector  stepped  before  him. 

"  You  mean  to  stop  me  ?  "  cried  Robert. 

"  Touch  but  your  hand  to  me,  if  you  would  know  how 
well  I  mean  it  !  Charlotte,  stay  !  There  was  an  affair 
of  a  letter.  It  was  somewhat  mysterious,  and  Mr.  Green 
wich  shall  explain." 

"  Stand  from  the  door,"  said  Robert,  "  or  I  will  not 
speak  one  word." 

Hector  stepped  aside.  But  his  eye  was  alert,  and  fixed 
on  Robert. 

"  If  it  is  the  letter  troubles  you  so  much,  I  pretended 
to  have  received  one,  it  is  true.  She  will  tell  you  that  she 
gave  me  no  opportunity  to  set  her  right  upon  that  point ; 
or  I  should  have  done  so." 

"  Before  her,  then,  you  confess  there  was  no  letter  ?  " 

"  I  took  an  old  one,  by  chance,  from  my  pocket.  It  was 
the  caprice  of  a  moment,  to  try  its  effect,  not  to  deceive 
her." 

"  An  old  one  you  took  by  chance  from  your  pocket ! " 


THE  JUDGMENT  245 

repeated  Hector.  "  The  artifice  was  not  preconceived  ? 
Do  I  understand  ?  " 

"  Is  not  my  word  enough  ?  " 

"  No  !     Falsehood  can  go  no  farther  !     Look  here  !  " 

And  the  evidence  of  Robert's  guilt  was  displayed,  in 
faithful  black-and-white,  before  his  astonished  eyes.  Hec 
tor  struck  the  paper. 

"  A  momentary  caprice  !  an  old  chance  letter  !  The  en 
velope  indeed  was  old ;  but  there  is  my  name,  attached  to 
an  infamous  forgery.  To  debase  me  in  her  sight,  to  drive 
her  to  despair,  you  invented  this  device.  Shift  and  turn 
now  as  you  will,  —  there  you  are  !  " 

Robert's  face  was  of  a  cowardly  hue  ;  but  a  stubborn 
pride  sustained  him,  and  he  answered  sullenly,  — 

"  Well,  sir,  make  the  most  of  it !  " 

"  For  the  truth's  sake,  I  will  !  Now  go,  if  you  wish  ; 
but  I  shall  go  with  you.  In  this  house  I  am  a  visitor;  I  do 
not  care  to  make  it  the  scene  of  further  disturbance.  There 
is  your  hat,  which  you  had  forgotten  in  your  recent  haste." 

Hector  stepped  to  the  side-room.  Charlotte  followed 
him,  alarmed. 

"  Do  not  go  out  with  him  !  "  she  pleaded. 

"  Where  is  your  faith  ?  "'  said  Hector.  "  I  have  a  solemn 
lesson  for  that  man,  which  can  be  taught  only  beneath  the 
stars.  Fear  nothing." 

It  was  easy  to  say,  have  faith,  and  do  not  fear !  But 
when  Charlotte  saw  the  despair  and  mortal  hate  in  Robert's 
face,  as  he  went  forth,  she  felt  a  horrible  dread.  Hector 
pressed  her  hand  at  the  door,  which  she  held  open,  and, 
flinging  his  cloak  about  him,  walked  on  by  Robert's  side. 
It  was  a  dreary  street.  The  night  was  dark,  and  the  wind 
whistled.  They  had  soon  passed  from  sight,  and  the  echo 
of  their  footsteps  died  away. 


1-46  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


XXV 

TOWARDS    MIDNIGHT 

CHARLOTTE  remained  some  minutes  at  the  door.  The 
old  trees  before  the  house  groaned  and  creaked  and  tossed 
their  desolate,  naked  arms  in  the  blast.  The  thin  white 
moon  was  setting ;  phantom  clouds  careered  in  the  sky  ; 
the  startled  stars  seemed  flying  from  their  spheres.  The 
apparition  of  a  dim,  gliding  figure,  skulking  away  as  she 
gazed,  served  to  heighten  Charlotte's  apprehensions.  It 
disappeared  in  the  direction  Hector  and  Robert  had  taken. 
She  ventured  out  upon  the  steps  ;  but  she  strained  her 
eyes  in  vain  to  penetrate  the  darkness. 

How  fearful  at  such  times  it  is  to  sit  alone  and  wait ! 
How  the  ear  throbs  to  catch  every  sound  !  how  awful  the 
silence !  how  dreary  the  moan  of  the  wind  !  Charlotte, 
alone  in  the  parlor,  listened  till  the  air  seemed  all  alive 
with  invisible  intelligences,  that  hovered  to  and  fro ;  that 
groaned  in  the  chimney  ;  that  sighed  beneath  the  gables ; 
that  ticked  in  the  wall ;  that  clattered  at  the  casement,  and 
tapped,  with  elfish  laughter,  on  the  panes.  Twice  she 
thought  she  heard  distant  pistol-shots.  An  hour  dragged 
by,  each  moment  heaping  its  weight  upon  her  anxious 
mind. 

She  was  on  the  point  of  seeking  the  family,  to  inform 
them  of  the  cause  of  her  alarm,  when  she  heard  an  ap 
proaching  tread.  She  flew  to  the  window  ;  she  recognized 
the  welcome  cloak  and  hat.  She  was  at  the  door  in  an 
instant. 

"0  Hector!     I  was  never  glad'7  —  till  now,  she  would 


TOWARDS  MIDNIGHT  247 

have  added ;  but  her  voice  died  in  her  throat.  What  new 
suspense  was  this  ?  With  the  sombre  cloak  thrown  across 
his  chest,  muffling  his  face,  the  comer  stood  motionless 
upon  the  threshold. 

"  Hector  !  why  is  this  ?     Come  in  !  " 

Still  muffled  in  the  cloak,  he  entered  without  speaking, 
and  moved  slowly  towards  the  room  in  which  the  lamp 
was  burning.  Charlotte  uttered  a  cry. 

"  You  are  not  Hector  !  " 

The  figure  turned,  and  stood  regarding  her  from  beneath 
the  shadow  of  the  hat.  The  hat  was  certainly  Hector's, 
likewise  the  cloak ;  but  the  form,  the  step,  the  manner  — - 
how  changed  !  Charlotte  waited  for  a  word  or  look  of 
explanation.  A  solemn  obeisance ;  then  the  hat  was  slowly 
raised,  and  the  folds  of  the  cloak  fell  from  the  hidden  face. 

«  Edward  ! " 

Another  stately  bow  from  the  hat  and  cloak. 

"  Your  majesty  !  " 

"  Where  is  Hector  ?  " 

"Five  fathoms  deep,  where  the  salamanders  sleep!  I 
inquired  for  the  Duchess  of  Dingledom,  and  they  said  she 
had  gone  to  the  moon.  With  rings  on  her  fingers,  and 
bells  on  her  toes,  that  she  may  have  music  wherever  she 
goes.  *  Quippe !" 

And  the  prime  minister,  pirouetting  on  his  left  foot, 
whirled  three  times,  and  stood  before  Charlotte,  solemn 
and  stately  as  ever. 

"  Edward  !  Edward  !  do  not  do  so  !  " 

"  The  other  way  ?  "  And,  pirouetting  on  his  right  foot, 
he  turned  thrice  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  stood  facing 
her,  as  before.  "  There  shall  be  dancers  in  our  kingdom. 
Dancers,  prancers,  and  the  light  fantastic  toe.  As  a  reli 
gious  exercise  only.  I  am  the  centre  of  the  universe ; 
when  I  turn,  all  creation  whirls  ! " 

"  Oh,  tell  me,  Edward,  where  is  Hec-tor  ?  " 

"  Some  in  rags,  and  some  in  shags,  and  some  in  velvet 


248  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

gowns  !  "  Edward  distended  the  wings  of  the  mantle. 
"  This  is  princely  costume.  When  the  warrior  falls,  his 
panoply  is  plundered.  And  nobody  knows  that  he  lies 
there,  but  his  hawk  and  his  hound  and  his  ladye-fair." 

"  He  has  been  hurt ! "  cried  Charlotte. 

"The  new  moon  was  just  over  the  old  church  steeple. 
It  looked  like  a  rind  of  cheese  on  a  toasting-fork.  We'll 
have  three  moons  in  our  kingdom,  — one  yellow,  one  white, 
and  one  pea-green.  Since  the  duchess  has  gone  to  the 
moon,  the  man  in  the  moon  will  be  henpecked.  The  spar 
row's  cap  was  in  the  trap,  the  cat  came  creeping  after,  — 
pounce  !  they'll  tell  you  the  remainder  of  the  history  when 
they  bring  in  the  feathers." 

"Edward!"  articulated  Charlotte;  "  dear  Edward  !"  — 

"The  deer  is  a  superb  creature;  and  to  all  such  we'll 
give  encouragement.  We'll  set  a  premium  on  fair  women, 
too ;  and  Sheba  shall  swarm  with  them.  But,  if  there  be 
any  more  beautiful  than  your  majesty,  they  shall  wear 
veils.  'Twould  peril  man's  salvation.  I  have  had  experi 
ence,  and  can  testify  for  the  race.  Who  comes  there  ? 
Stand  and  deliver ! " 

It  was  Mrs.  Longman,  whom  Charlotte  had  summoned 
by  the  bell.  She  regarded  Edward  with  astonishment,  hav 
ing  all  this  time  believed  him  asleep  in  his  chamber.  She 
looked  to  Charlotte  for  an  explanation,  and  imbibed  her 
fears,  with  quick  sympathy,  when  the  terrified  girl  spoke 
of  Hector. 

"  Hector  was  a  Trojan,"  said  Edward.  "  He  was  chased 
three  times  around  the  walls,  when  —  chuck  !  Achilles 
cracked  him  over  !  Achilles'  wrath,  to  Greece  the 
direful  springs  of  woes  unnumbered  —  Andromache  was  a 
widow." 

"  How  did  you  leave  the  house  ?  " 

"  Not  by  the  front  threshold.  A  slimy  thing  had  crept 
over ! " 

"  Why  did  you  go  out  ?  " 


TOWARDS  MIDNIGHT  249 

"  To  look  after  the  prince.  He  lacks  attendants,  and  his 
state  is  beggarly.  Solemn  times,  when  alligators  walk  on 
two  feet,  and  carry  murder  in  their  bosoms  ! " 

"  Was  there  a  quarrel  ?  " 

"  The  cat  will  play,  and  after  slay  !  "  Edward  made  a 
horridly  suggestive  gesture,  by  drawing  his  hand,  with  a 
gurgling  sound,  across  his  throat.  "  Beards  shall  grow 
long  in  our  kingdom  ;  razors  being  dangerous  !  " 

"  Edward,"  said  Mrs.  Longman  kindly,  but  seriously, 
"  this  will  not  do.  See  !  you  distress  Charlotte,  who  has 
been  so  good  to  you  ! " 

"  Hark  to  the  story ! "  Charlotte  and  the  widow  lis 
tened.  "  'Tis  short  and  sweet.  Robin's  wife  twelve  jewels 
did  wear,  —  three  on  her  bosom  and  nine  in  her  hair  ;  but 
the  jewel  more  precious  than  any,  said  I,  not  all  Robin's 
riches  are  equal  to  buy.  She  lacked  virtue.  Hence  the 
elopement ;  and  Robin  lost  her  and  her  jewels.  I  know 
she  is  called  a  duchess ;  but  the  man  is  not  her  husband. 
The  ten  commandments  are  ten-pins,  which  Satan  bowls 
down  with  the  ball  of  temptation.  Since  one  has  been 
broken  so  often,  there  are  now  but  nine.  When  one  falls, 
the  others  topple.  Set  'em  up,  Reverend  !  In  our  kingdom 
there  shall  be  a  new  system  of  virtue,  which  will  come 
through  the  exaltation  of  our  lives,  and  our  devotion  to  old 
cheese.  Green  cheese,  innocence  ;  old  cheese,  virtue  ;  curd 
is  simplicity ;  and  development  is  exhibited  under  the 
form  of  a  cheese-press.  There's  whey,  — that's  weakness; 
mould,  excessive  morality;  and  bigotry  breeds  maggots." 

Charlotte  knew  not  what  to  do.  Perhaps  it  was  her  own 
excitement  that  provoked  Edward's  wildness ;  but,  what 
ever  the  cause,  she  appeared  to  have  lost  all  influence  over 
him.  Evading  her  questions,  he  continued  to  declaim  on 
all  sorts  of  odd  subjects,  disconnected,  yet  not  without 
some  subtle  ratiocination  of  his  own,  jumbling  together 
fragments  of  sense  and  nonsense,  with  occasionally  a 
bright  gleam  of  wisdom,  shown  momentarily,  like  rays  of 


250  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

diamonds  flashing  from  heaps  of  rubbish.  His  mind  seemed 
like  some  excellent  book,  with  its  pages  disarranged  and 
torn,  and  its  index  lost.  In  vain  Charlotte  attempted  to 
restore  order  among  the  leaves.  The  widow's  attempts  to 
assist  but  rendered  matters  worse,  and  the  young  girl  was 
ready  to  weep  in  utter  despair,  when  the  sound  of  wheels 
at  the  door  sent  a  thrill  to  her  heart.  She  flew  to  open  it. 

There  was  a  rustling,  a  fluttering,  a  few  stifled  and  hur 
ried  words ;  and  the  new-comer,  with  a  handkerchief  bound 
upon  his  head,  and  with  Charlotte,  trembling,  laughing, 
weeping,  upon  his  arm,  marched  into  the  room. 

"  Ho  !  Prince  of  Egypt ! "  cried  Edward,  sitting  grave 
and  immovable  in  the  borrowed  hat  and  cloak.  "  Was  it 
thou  in  the  carriage  ?  Carriages  are  of  the  earth,  earthy. 
Railroads  are  intellectual ;  but  when  spiritual  laws  are 
understood,  men  will  navigate  the  air.  Meanwhile,  majesty 
creeps." 

"  'Twas  a  pretty  trick  you  played  me  ! "  exclaimed  Hec 
tor. 

"Her  majesty's  faith  was  tested,  and  she  proved  herself 
worthy.  The  Seven  Wise  Men  have  been  discoursing." 

"  The  Seven  Wise  Men  are  dead,"  said  Hector ;  "  and 
dead  men,  to  be  consistent,  should  speak  only  the  dead  lan 
guages.  Reconcile  that ! " 

"  There's  a  wisdom  that  disdains  logic  ;  and  we  know 
more  than  we  understand.  My  feet  are  ice  ;  but  my  head 
is  thawed ;  for  the  moon  came  down  and  kissed  me  with 
her  fiery  lips.  If  ever  I  marry,"  Edward's  manner 
changed  to  airy  lightness,  "  'tis  the  moon  shall  be  my 
bride ;  for  she  is  lovely  and  lonely,  and  so  she  has  told  me 
many  a  night ;  and  I  reach  out  my  hand,  and  pat  her 
cheek.  She  smiles !  I  love  the  moon,  and  she  loves  me ! 
For  nine  days  I  was  Lord  Bacon ;  since  then,  I  am  Shake 
speare,  and  my  moods  are  poetical.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"I  think,"  said  Hector,  "you  are  no  great  Shaks." 

"  The  stars  shall  come  to  the  wedding.     One  bright-eyed 


TOWARDS  MIDNIGHT  251 

little  fellow  winked  at  me  to-night,  —  he  knows  !  That 
will  be  when  the  world  is  righted.  At  present  it's  upside 
down.  The  coachman  is  harnessed,  and  the  horses  ride  and 
drive.  Necessity  has  got  the  whip,  and  even  Genius  must 
skip.  The  soul  is  servant  to  a  trade,  and  worships  what 
his  hands  have  made.  The  mastiff  gravely  sits  at  table  ;  the 
farmer  watches  barn  and  stable.  The  mule  is  mounted  on 
the  man.  The  miserable  African  is  tyrant  to  the  Southern 
master.  The  proud  flock  leads  the  abject  pastor  ;  the  wily 
shepherd  cheats  the  sheep.  Many  sow  who  never  reap, 
many  reap  who  never  sow ;  the  Devil  laughs,  and  so  we 
go  !  Heigh-ho  ! " 

"  Be  calm,"  Hector  said  aside  to  Charlotte  and  Mrs. 
Longman,  "  and  in  a  little  while  he  will  become  so. 
That's  a  bad  state  of  affairs  you  describe." 

"  Good  is  at  the  heart  of  all  things ;  evil  is  the  shuck. 
The  true  commandment  is  not,  <  Shun  evil,'  but  l  Love  the 
good ; '  then  evil  shall  go  from  you  by  the  law  of  magnetic 
repulsion.  Evil  with  good  hath  close  connection,  and  vice 
is  virtue's  imperfection.  Desire  is  the  root  of  love ;  and 
sinning  is  piety's  germinal  beginning  !  In  Sheba,  all  phi 
losophy  shall  be  promulgated  by  the  prime  minister  ;  and 
it  shall  be  taught  in  rhymes,  Shakespeare  inspiring.  If 
there  is  any  problem  to  solve,  propose  it." 

"One  thing,"  observed  Hector;  "with  so  many  people  to 
sleep  for,  I  don't  see  how  you  can  afford  to  sit  up  so  late. 
I've  no  objection  to  your  stealing  my  beaver ;  but  don't  rob 
Shakespeare  of  his  nap.  The  wise  men  grow  drowsy ;  and 
it's  my  opinion  you'd  better  go  to  bed." 

"  The  counsel  is  salutary ;  though  I  yield,"  said  Edward, 
graciously,  "not  to  the  man,  but  to  the  prince." 

"  Will  you  come,  then  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Longman. 

"Sweet  Sal,  you  are  irresistible  !"  Edward  adjusted  the 
cloak  to  the  shoulders  of  a  plaster  Byron  in  the  corner, 
placing  the  hat  upon  the  summit.  "  I  was  naked,  and  you 
clothed  me,"  turning  to  Hector ;  "  therefore,  you  shall  hold 


252  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

high  rank  in  our  kingdom.  But  do  not  natter  her  majesty 
for  that  puts  coldness  between  us.  Your  coming  has 
brought  trouble  ;  and  we  are  not  what  we  were.  Heigh-ho ! 
and  I  can't  but  grieve,  the  good  old  days  of  Adam  and  of 
Eve  !  The  words  may  seem  puerile,  but  there's  meaning 
concealed.  Adam  was  the  first  man,  Eve  was  the  t'other; 
Cain  was  a  wicked  man,  'ca'se  he  killed  his  brother  !  Crack 
the  nut,  and  the  meat  is  palpable." 

"  Well,  good-night !  " 

"  Bear  witness  !  "  said  Edward  solemnly.  "  You  are 
three,  —  tit,  tat,  tow,  three  in  a  row  !  And  I  do  here  de 
clare  and  affirm  before  you,  that,  all  envy  aside,  I  bid  her 
majesty  a  fair  good-night,  and  peaceful  dreams  and  slum 
bers  light !  I  make  my  bow,  as  the  oak  said ;  I  take  leave 
of  you,  answered  the  wind  with  a  whisk ;  and  so  the  centre 
of  the  universe  withdraws." 

With  a  profound  reverence,  he  went  backwards  out  of 
the  room ;  but,  appearing  to  consider  something  still  re 
quired  to  render  his  exit  impressive,  he  returned,  and, 
putting  his  head  in  at  the  door,  said,  "  Peep-bo ! "  with  a 
cunning  leer,  designed,  undoubtedly,  as  the  most  effective 
diplomatic  stroke  of  the  evening. 

"  What  a  fright  I  have  had  !  "  said  Charlotte.  "  How 
did  he  get  your  hat  and  cloak  ?  " 

"  I  loaned  them  to  him.  He  came  after  us,  bareheaded, 
and  thinly  clad  ;  I  was  afraid  that,  in  his  feeble  state,  he 
would  suffer  from  the  cold ;  and,  as  my  blood  was  up,  I 
could  very  well  dispense  with  the  extra  clothing.  I  ad 
vised  him  to  keep  near  me;  but  the  temptation  to  play 
fantastic  tricks  in  my  garments  was,  it  seems,  too  great  to 
be  resisted." 

«  And  Robert  ?  " 

"  Oh,  humanity  !  "  exclaimed  Hector  ;  "  it  is  a  riddle  ! " 

"  You  did  not  quarrel  ?  " 

"  No  ;  he  acknowledged  his  wrongs,  and  made  the  most 
solemn  promises  for  the  future." 


TOWARDS  MIDNIGHT  253 

"  0  Hector  !  how  could  you  bring  him  to  that  point  ?  '' 

"  It  was  not  I,  but  the  truth.  But  do  not  count  too 
much  upon  his  promises.  The  evil  spirit  in  him,  though 
humbled,  is  not  killed.  He  will  not  trouble  us  soon,  how 
ever,  I  think ;  he  knows  whom  he  has  to  deal  with.  He 
is  engaging  in  speculations  with  Mr.  Sperkley,  and  has 
pledged  himself  not  to  go  back  to  Huntersford.  So  there 
remains  nothing  to  hinder  your  return  with  me  to-morrow." 

"  But  the  danger,  —  should  he  choose  to  take  revenge  ! 
Here,  I  am  safe  " 

"  And  there  you  will  be  safe  ;  for  a  time,  at  least.  My 
mother  is  dying  for  you ;  I  will  leave  you  with  her,  and  go 
at  once  to  forestall  all  danger,  by  striking  at  the  very  root 
of  his  power.  Were  it  not  for  my  mother,  I  would  not  ask 
you  to  return.  But  we  must  go  to  her  ;  and  while  she 
lives,  there  we  must  live,  before  the  world,  free  from  all 
apprehension  of  evil,  and  in  the  face  of  prejudice." 

An  almost  fearful  sense  of  happiness  suffused  Charlotte's 
entire  being.  Could  it  be  real  ?  Would  she  not  soon 
awake,  and  weep  for  her  vanished  dreams  ? 

"  But,  even  if  this  should  be,  could  not  the  affair  be 
accomplished  without  a  journey  ?  " 

"  Possibly.  But  I  should  tremble  to  intrust  so  sacred  a 
business  to  any  indifferent  person.'7 

"  And  your  mother,"  said  Charlotte,  —  "  we  owe  it  to 
her,  to  seek  her  sympathy  and  counsel.  Go  to  her ;  tell 
her  all ;  keep  nothing  back ;  then,  if  she  permits  it,  if  she 
desires  it,  I  will  return." 


254  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


XXVI 

MOTHER    AND    SON 

HECTOR'S  absence,  the  loss  of  Charlotte,  and  manifold 
minor  troubles  of  a  domestic  nature,  had  produced  their 
effect  upon  Mrs.  Dunbury.  Her  old  physician  had  been 
recalled ;  solemn  medical  attendance  filled  the  place  of  the 
spiritual  stimulus  for  which  her  spirit  famished ;  and  pre 
scriptions  became  the  order  of  the  day  —  and  night. 

Bridget's  strong  arms  could  embrace  the  head  and  front 
of  the  household  work,  but  a  gentler  hand  and  lighter  foot 
than  hers  were  required  in  the  invalid's  chamber.  Bertha 
Wing  was  recently  married,  and  had  a  household  of  her 
own.  Mr.  Fosdick's  daughters  might  possibly  have  been 
had,  but  Mrs.  Dunbury  preferred  any  other  attendance. 
As  a  last  resort,  Phoebe  Jackwood  was  sent  for,  who  could 
come  over  "  for  a  few  days,"  she  said,  "  just  for  accommo 
dation."  Phoebe  came  accordingly.  It  was  a  day  or  two 
before  Hector's  unexpected  return  ;  and  his  departure  for 
Canada  had  left  her  once  more  alone  with  his  mother. 

The  novelty  and  importance  of  the  mission  pleased 
Phoebe's  girlish  heart,  and  she  exerted  herself  to  fulfil  it 
to  the  invalid's  comfort  and  satisfaction.  Her  efforts  were 
well  appreciated  ;  Mrs.  Dunbury  was  grateful ;  but  Phoebe's 
touch,  Phoebe's  step,  Phoebe's  voice,  were  not  the  touch, 
the  step,  the  voice,  she  loved.  She  pined  for  Charlotte. 
Hector  had  become  almost  a  secondary  consideration.  Her 
experience  with  friends  of  her  own  sex  had  all  her  life 
been  unsatisfactory.  Never  until  the  past  summer  had  she 
known  a  woman's  heart  that  drew  out  all  her  sympathies. 


MOTHER   AND   SON  255 

Perhaps  she  loved  Charlotte  through  her  son ;  but,  what 
ever  the  influence,  she  had  found  in  her  a  charm  which 
she  had  found  in  no  other,  and  which  now  arose  fragrant 
in  her  memory,  until  to  sense  it,  breathe  it  again,  became 
the  desire  and  longing  of  her  life. 

Hector  had  been  two  days  absent.  On  the  afternoon  of 
the  third  day,  Corny  put  his  head  in  at  the  door. 

"  There's  someb'dy  comin'  up  the  road,  Mis'  Dunb'ry.  I 
guess  it's  Hector." 

"  Oh,  Phoebe,  run  and  see  ! " 

Phoebe  ran ;  Phoebe  returned,  joyous. 

"  It  is  Hector  !     I  know  his  cloak  !  " 

"  Is  she  with  him  ?  " 

"  There's  somebody  with  him.  If  it's  Charlotte,  she's 
got  a  new  bunnet.  They're  in  Mr.  Simpkins's  wagon  ;  he's 
brought  'em  over  from  the  railroad.  It  is  Charlotte  !  " 
cried  Phoebe,  at  the  window.  "  No,  it  ain't,  either !  " 

A  minute  later,  Hector's  foot  was  on  the  floor ;  Hector's 
arms  supported  the  invalid,  as  she  arose  from  her  pillow. 

"  And  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  Charlotte  is  safe  and  well." 

"The  new  bunnet  was  Ann  Carter  !"  exclaimed  Phoebe, 
disappointed. 

"  Good  Phoebe,"  said  Hector,  "  I  want  to  talk  with  my 
mother  a  little  while  ;  will  you  allow  me  ?  " 

"  The  doctor  says  she  is  to  be  kept  very  quiet,"  replied 
the  wise  Phoebe. 

"  Oh,  I'll  look  to  that !  And  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to 
take  away,  for  a  few  minutes,  the  charm  of  your  presence, 
which  will  be  all  the  fresher  and  sweeter  when  you  again 
favor  us  with  it  ?  " 

Phoebe,  with  exquisite  simplicity  :  "  Do  you  mean  you 
would  like  to  have  me  leave  the  room  ?  Oh,  I'll  do  that  ! 
Why  didn't  you  say  so  ?  Mrs.  Dunbury  is  to  take  two 
tablespoonfuls  of  that  in  the  bottle" 

"  I'll  attend  to  the  bottle ; "  and,  following  Phoebe  to  the 
door.  TToctor  looked  it  after  her. 


256  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Ah,  mamma  !  "  then  said  he,  seating  himself  by  the 
bed,  "  this  bridge  of  life  we  tread  upon  is  a  bridge  of 
sighs !  But  it  is  worth  the  crossing,  is  it  not  ?  It  is 
through  suffering  that  the  depths  of  our  nature  are  stirred, 
and  existence  made  great  and  glorious." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes  !  "  responded  the  invalid.  "  But  why  do 
you  tell  me  this  ?  " 

"  By  way  of  preamble,  mother.  A  confession  and  a  his 
tory  follow.'7 

"  And  —  Charlotte  ?  " 

"  Be  patient ;  you  shall  hear  of  her ;  for  I  cannot  show 
you  my  heart,  without  revealing  her  image." 

"  I  am  glad  !  " 

"  Before  I  have  finished,  perhaps  you  will  be  sorry  !  " 

He  scarcely  knew  how  to  proceed.  His  mother  was  too 
feeble  to  endure  a  sudden  shock.  He  told  of  the  love  and 
happiness  which  he  thought  might  be  his  ;  and  when  all 
her  sympathies  were  stirred,  and  joy  and  faith  made  her 
strong,  he  turned  and  denounced  those  false  estimates  of 
society  by  which  love  and  happiness  are  so  often  frus 
trated.  She  assented  to  all  he  said. 

"But,  consider!"  he  cried;  "of  two  persons  who  love 
thus  deeply,  both  equally  worthy,  one  may  be  descended 
from  princes,  while  the  other  is  the  child  of  contumely  and 
dishonor." 

"  We  must  not  forget  that  Christ  was  born  in  a  manger," 
breathed  the  invalid. 

"  Glorious  thought !  Dear  mother,  when  you  speak  that 
sacred  name,  my  whole  being  is  stirred  with  ineffable  emo 
tion  !  One  night,  in  my  absence  from  you  and  Charlotte, 
one  strange,  memorable  night,  when  I  lay  thinking  of  the 
world,  of  life,  a  great  power  came  upon  me ;  an  overshadow 
ing,  an  agony,  and  then  a  light ;  and  I  saw  all  the  circum 
stances  of  birth,  of  wealth,  of  station,  in  their  true  relation 
to  the  majesty  of  the  soul.  Oh,  yes,  Christ,  whom  now  all 
the  enlightened  world  adores  in  costly  temples,  was  born 


MOTHER   AND   SON  257 

in  a  manger ;  and  the  instrument  of  his  ignominious  death 
has  become  the  symbol  of  the  world's  salvation  !  If  we  be 
lieve  in  him,  how  can  we  at  the  same  time  rest  our  faith 
upon  the  externals  of  society  ?  Yet  let  us  not  forget  that 
we  are  considering  vital  truths,  and  have  nothing  to  do 
with  fine  theories  that  cannot  be  woven  into  our  lives." 

"  I  know,  my  son,  we  are  uttering  social  heresies,  but  let 
the  truth  be  spoken ;  then,  if  we  have  strength  and  courage, 
let  us  live  it  !  " 

"  Mother,  for  one  born  and  bred  in  English  society, 
where  the  prejudice  of  clan  and  caste  is  as  potent  as  in 
India,  you  talk  marvellously  !  It  is  well  for  you  to  have 
suffered  from  change  of  fortune,  from  privation  and  humil 
iation,  from  mental  and  bodily  anguish,  since  every  tear 
your  eyes  have  shed  has  fallen  a  pearl  of  wisdom  into  your 
lap  !  Imagine,  now,  that  I  have  a  dear,  sweet  flower  ;  I 
bring  it  to  you  ;  shall  we  stop  to  consider  in  what  soil  it 
sprung,  before  enjoying  its  fragrance  and  beauty  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;   but  love  it  for  its  own  sake,  for  what  it  is  !  " 

"  Nobly  answered  !  "  exclaimed  Hector.  "  It  may  be 
found  among  wretched  weeds  ;  it  may  have  drank  poison 
ous  dews.  Am  I  to  cast  it  from  me  ?  Or  am  I  to  cherish 
it  all  the  more  choicely  for  that  innate  purity,  which  none 
of  those  influences  could  destroy  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  cherish  it,  my  son,  with  all  your  heart  and 
soul !  " 

"  But  if  the  possession  of  this  flower  brings  upon  me  the 
shame  of  the  world,  and  the  hatred  and  persecution  of 
those  who  broke  its  stalk  and  bruised  its  leaves,  —  tell  me, 
what  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  son,  I  tremble  !  —  but  be  you  brave,  and  noble, 
and  strong !  " 

"  And  if  that  flower  were  —  Charlotte  ?  " 

The  invalid  wept,  and,  straining  Hector  to  her  bosom, 
responded  fervently,  — 

"  Then  God  help  you  and  her  !  " 


258  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XXVII 

THE    FOREST    ROAD 

ON  the  edge  of  the  town  of  Huntersford  was  a  railway 
station,  consisting  simply  of  a  platform  of  hemlock  boards, 
erected  in  a  lonely  and  barren  spot,  which  the  corporation 
had  not  seen  fit  to  decorate  with  a  depot. 

One  cold  and  windy  afternoon,  late  in  November,  a  long, 
dark  train  of  cars  flew  smoking  and  whizzing  to  the  foot  of 
the  platform,  and  stopped.  Two  passengers  were  landed, 
with  their  baggage,  and  once  more  the  mighty  monster  of 
steam  twanging  his  terrible  cross-bow,  the  arrowy  train 
sped  on,  thundering  with  faint  and  fainter  echoes  among 
the  hills.  The  two  passengers  looked  around  in  astonish 
ment.  A  moment  since  they  were  in  the  midst  of  a  little, 
crowded  world  of  human  life.  Now  they  stood  upon  a  soli 
tary  hill,  alone  ;  the  train  out  of  sight ;  not  a  human  being 
risible ;  no  habitation  near ;  but  all  around  the  earth 
looked  desolate  and  cold  under  its  crust  of  snow. 

"  This  rather  takes  one's  breath  away  !  Four  miles  from 
home,  and  no  vehicle  at  hand  !  I  think  Corny  must  have 
been  sent  for  us  ;  and  if  he  were  told  to  come  to  this  sta 
tion,  he  would  be  sure  to  find  some  other.  Charlotte,  what 
shall  we  do  ?  wait  here,  or  walk  ?  " 

The  prospect  was  discouraging.  No  shelter,  no  means  of 
conveyance,  and  no  path  in  the  direction  they  were  to  travel, 
but  a  rough  wagon-track  cut  through  the  crusty  snow. 
Added  to  this,  night  was  setting  in,  and  the  place  was 
disagreeably  suggestive  of  wolves. 

"  I  must  confess  myself,  for  once  in  my  life,  completely 


THE  FOREST  HOAD  259 

puzzled  !  If  we  wait  here,  there  is  a  fine  prospect  of  freez 
ing.  If  we  walk  on,  we  may  miss  the  wagon  if  it  should 
come  by  the  other  road.  I  was  never  more  fully  persuaded 
that  it  is  my  duty  to  be  vexed  !  " 

"  That  will  be  a  good  plan,"  replied  Charlotte,  "  if  it 
will  bring  the  wagon." 

"  It  is  growing  dark  very  fast,"  said  Hector.  "  I  think, 
before  it  is  too  late,  I  will  make  an  excursion  into  the 
hollow,  and  see  what  I  can  discover." 

"  Let  me  go  with  you  !  " 

"  Are  you  afraid  to  stay  alone  ?  " 

"  jSTo,  not  afraid  ;  but  let  me  go  with  you." 

"  Dear  child,  the  road  will  be  rough  for  these  little  feet 
of  yours  ;  but  I  will  not  leave  you  for  a  moment.  We  will 
stay  or  go  together."  Again  he  looked  impatiently  around. 
"This,"  he  exclaimed,  "at  a  time  when  your  path  should  be 
strewn  with  flowers  !  " 

"  It  is  nothing,  since  you  are  with  me  !  But,  O  Hec 
tor  !  I  have  all  along  seen  a  dark  shadow  before  me,  in 
the  direction  of  Huntersford." 

"  A  shadow  ?  how  ?  " 

"  A  foreboding  of  something  to  happen  to  us  both.  It 
is  not  this,  but  this  seems  a  forerunner  of  disappointments 
sent  to  warn  us.  You  think  me  weak,  I  know." 

"  Not  weak,  brave  girl !  if,  when  the  disappointments 
come,  you  are  strong  to  bear  them  —  as  now.  Come  !" 

They  left  the  baggage  011  the  platform,  and  walked  to 
the  foot  of  the  acclivity.  Beyond  was  the  bed  of  Wild 
River,  which  flowed  through  chasms  and  gorges  among  the 
hills.  The  road  they  were  to  follow  led  along  its  banks,  on 
the  borders  of  an  old  forest,  whose  deep  silence  was  broken 
only  by  the  voice  of  the  pouring  waters.  Wagons  had 
passed  when  the  earth  was  soft;  it  was  now  frozen,  and 
the  way  appeared  toothed  with  irregular,  sharp  clods  of 
ice.  Fortunately,  the  distance  was  not  long  through  the 
woods,  and  on  the  other  side  was  a  small  village,  where  a 


260  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

conveyance  could  be  procured.  Before  they  had  gone  far 
they  heard  the  sound  of  a  wagon.  Then  somebody  cracked 
a  whip  in  the  woods,  and  said,  "  Go  'long ! "  The  voice 
was  unmistakable. 

"  Mr.  Jackwood  ! " 

"  Hello  ! "  cried  the  farmer,  pulling  up  his  horse.  "  That 
you,  Hector  Dunbury  ?  Ye  got  Cha'lotte  Woods  with  ye, 
too,  hain't  ye  ?  How  d'e  du,  Cha'lotte  ?  " 

She  submitted  her  hand  to  the  hearty  grasp  of  the 
farmer,  who  got  out  of  his  wagon  to  greet  her. 

"  I'm  glad  enough  to  see  ye  agin  !  I  was  jest  goin'  over 
to  the  railroad  arter  ye.  I  ca'c'lated  I  was  goin'  to  be  a 
leetle  late." 

"  Where  is  my  father  ?  "  asked  Hector. 

"Oh,  your  father  —  he's  met  with  a  bit  of  an  accident 
to-day,  I'm  sorry  to  say." 

"  An  accident !  " 

"P'raps  you'd  better  not  git  in  till  I  turn  about,"  sug 
gested  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  'Tain't  a  very  comf'table  place  to 
turn  in.  I  shall  haf  to  cramp  and  back." 

He  stepped  to  the  horse's  head,  and,  holding  the  bridle 
with  both  hands,  commenced  turning  very  slowly  and 
carefully. 

"  What  has  happened  at  home  ?  "  demanded  Hector. 

"  Look  an'  see  if  I'm  backin'  aginst  that  'ere  stump," 
cried  the  farmer.  "  I  thought  I  should  jes'  graze  it.  If 
it's  in  the  way,  sing  out." 

"  You  are  all  right.  Start  up  a  little  now,"  said  Hector. 
"  Hold  !  Come,  Charlotte." 

They  got  up  into  the  wagon ;  and  Mr.  Jackwood,  placing 
a  board,  with  a  woolly  sheep-skin  upon  it,  across  the  box 
before  them,  as  a  seat  for  himself,  gathered  up  his  reins 
and  whip,  and  drove  back  through  the  woods. 

"That's  a  terrible  awk'ard  place  to  stop  at,  where  you 
come,"  -  —  turning  his  head  so  as  to  throw  his  voice  behind 
him,  and  at  the  same  time  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  horse. 


THE  FOREST  ROAD  261 

"Unless  ye  have  a  team  to  meet  ye,  ye  might  as  well  be 
set  down  in  Egypt.  I'll  git  ye  home  as  quick  as  I  can, 
then  go  back  arter  yer  baggage." 

Hector  interrupted  him,  to  ask  again  about  the  accident. 

"  Wai,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  I  thought  best  to  let  your 
narves  git  settled  a  leetle  mite,  'fore  I  told  ye.  Yer  father 
was  goin'  over  to  East  Huntersford  with  a  load  o'  grain ; 
I  guess  'twas  'bout  'leven  o'clock  when  he  drove  by  my 
house.  He  stopped  to  talk  a  little  while,  an'  it  struck 
me  he  had  on  —  hem  !  "  Mr.  Jackwood  coughed  with 
some  embarrassment  — "  too  much  of  a  load.  Says  I, 
'Ain't  you  'fraid  you've  got  more'n  your  team  "11  git 
along  'ith  conf't'bly  ?  '  says  I.  He  said  no,  he  guessed 
not ;  he  had  jes'  so  much  grain  to  spare,  an'  he  thought 
'twas  better  to  take  it  all  one  load,  than  make  two  bites 
to  a  cherry.  <  Of  course,'  says  I,  '  you  know  a  good  deal 
the  best  about  it,'  says  I ;  '  but,  if  'twas  mine,  I  should 
feel  jest  the  least  mite  ticklish  'bout  that  'ere  off  hoss. 
When  Wing  owned  him,'  says  I,  '  he  had  a  bad  trick  of 
frettin'  when  a  load  troubled  him  ;  p'tic'larly  when  he 
started  with  't,  an'  sometimes,'  says  I,  '  he'd  git  spunky, 
and  wouldn't  draw  at  all.'  Your  father  said  he'd  broke 
him  o'  that  trick,  he  guessed.  <  If  so,'  says  I,  ( I  shouldn't 
be  'fraid  of  a  middlin'  kind  o'  load,  like  that  'ere.  My 
team  wouldn't  think  nothin'  on't.'  But  I  noticed,  when  he 
started,  the  off  hoss  acted  kind  o'  ugly  ;  he  jerked,  an' 
flinched,  as  though  the  collar  hurt  his  breast,  —  jes'  's  he 
use'  to  when  Wing  owned  him,  for  all  the  world.  But  I 
thought  I  wouldn't  say  nothin'  more,  though  I'm  sorry 
now  I  didn't ;  for  it  'pears  Mist'  Dunbury  hadn't  more'n 
got  to  the  railroad  crossin',  when  the  pesky  beast  made  a 
fuss  agin  an'  balked,  with  the  load  right  acrost  the  track. 
I  never'd  let  a  team  stop  that  way  ;  I'd  git  'em  off  the 
track,  somehow  ;  if  they  wouldn't  go  ahead,  I'd  made  'em 
back,  if  there  was  any  back  to  'em !  But  prob'bly  Mr. 
Dunbury  didn't  think  o'  that.  Wai,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Jack- 


262  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

wood,  turning  almost  entirely  around,  and  demonstrating 
to  his  listeners  with  his  hands,  "there  he  was  when  the 
cars  come.  The  man  't  told  me  the  story  see  'em,  an' 
yelled  out ;  but  your  father  was  prob'bly  doin'  his  best,  an' 
couldn't  do  no  more,  to  save  the  nation.  I  asked  the  man, 
says  I,  'Why  didn't  you  help/  says  I,  "stid  o'  standin' 
there  an'  hollerin',  when  hollerin'  couldn't  do  no  good  ?  ' 
says  I.  But  he  said  he  had  a  skittish  hoss  to  hold,  an'  he 
didn't  dare  to  leave  him  a  rninit,  when  the  engine  was  in 
sight.  I  thought  it  a  kind  o'  milk-and-water  excuse,  but  I 
didn't  say  nothin'  ;  the  hoss  was  stole,  an'  there  wasn't  no 
use  lockin'  the  barn-door.  Wai,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Jack- 
wood,  warming  as  he  approached  the  catastrophe,  "the 
cars  come  !  My  —  informer  "  —  he  appeared  to  hesitate  a 
little  about  making  use  of  so  elegant  a  word  —  "  told  me 
'twas  the  awfulest  sight  he  ever  see.  He  no  more  expected 
to  see  Mist'  Dunbury  alive  than  —  wal,  he'd  no  idee  on't ! 
But  the  cars  didn't  hit  him,  mind  ye.  He  was  jest  un- 
tacklin'  the  team,  to  git  'em  out  o'  the  way,  when  the  engine 
struck.  He  was  insenseless  when  they  took  him  up,  but 
he  turned  out  to  be  not  half  so  much  hurt  as  everybody 
thought  for.  They  brought  him  home  this  arternoon,  an'  I 
guess  he's  doin'  as  well  as  could  be  expected.  What  was 
queer,  the  cars  wa'n't  thrown  off  the  track ;  they  ripped 
right  through  the  wagon  like  a  streak  !  The  horses  wa'n't 
hurt,  nuther,  —  strange  to  say.  Mist'  Dunbury  had  got 
'em  unhitched  jes'  't  the  minute  the  engine  struck.  They 
was  too  mad  to  be  scart,  I  imagine,  or  else  they'd  a'  started 
'ith  the  wagon  when  the  whistle  blowed ;  but  they  didn't, 
an'  when  the  cars  come  up,  they  run  right  agin  the  nearest 
fence,  an'  stopped.  If  't  had  been  my  team,  they'd  stripped 
their  harnesses  and  gone  to  Jericho.  On  the  hull,  it  seems 
a  providential  escape,  an'  we've  every  reason  to  feel  thank 
ful  'twa'n't  no  wus,"  lie  added  by  way  of  moral ;  "though  I 
mus'  say,  'twas  a  hard  rub  for  the  wagon,  an'  it  made  dre'- 
f ul  bad  work  with  the  grain  1 " 


THE  FACE  AT  THE   WINDOW  263 


XXVIII 

THE    FACE    AT    THE    WIXDOW 

CHARLOTTE  could  not  have  returned  to  her  old  home 
under  more  disheartening  circumstances.  Mr.  Dunbury 
lay  groaning  with  his  injuries,  and  perhaps  with  remorse, 
for  there  had  been  a  double  meaning  in  Mr.  Jackwood's 
saying  that  "  he  had  on  too  much  of  a  load "  when  his 
accident  happened.  And  the  shock  of  it  had  thrown  his 
feeble  and  fast-failing  wife  into  a  low  and  perilous  state. 

But  Charlotte  bore  up  bravely,  and  her  cheerful  de 
meanor  carried  an  energizing  influence  to  the  spirit  of  her 
old  friend. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  invalid  to  her,  one  day,  with 
grateful  emotion,  "  how  shall  I  ever  repay  you  for  all  your 
sacrifices  ?  " 

"  Oh,  if  you  could  only  know  how  richly  I  feel  repaid ! 
These  are  the  sweetest  and  happiest  days  of  my  wrhole 
life !  » 

The  invalid  could  not  doubt  it.  Hector  was  at  Char 
lotte's  side  ;  and  day  and  night,  with  enduring  love  and 
patience,  hand  in  hand  they  administered  to  the  wants  of 
the  sufferers.  It  mattered  not  how  severe  their  duties 
were ;  the  exchange  of  a  look  or  word,  as  they  met  for  an 
instant,  in  passing  from  room  to  room,  or  at  the  bedside 
of  either  of  the  patients,  compensated  for  all. 

"  0  Charlotte ! "  Hector  would  say,  with  a  smile  of 
ineffable  meaning  ;  and  no  answer  so  cheering  and  sweet 
as  the  glance  of  her  lustrous  eyes.  Then  there  were  the 
watches  of  the  night,  when  sleep  and  quiet  reigned,  and 


264  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

they  could  steal  away  from  their  almost  incessant  cares, 
and  sit  together  undisturbed,  conversing  low,  or  keeping 
hallowed  silence,  in  the  still  hours. 

One  of  these  memorable  nights  found  them  in  Mrs.  Dun- 
bury's  room.  She  was  sleeping  in  the  mild  shade  of  the 
bed-curtains,  while  a  profound  and  measured  breathing, 
issuing  through  the  open  door  of  the  adjoining  sick  cham 
ber,  marked  Mr.  Dunbury's  heavy  slumbers.  All  was 
quiet ;  Charlotte,  wearied  with  the  toils  of  the  day,  reclined 
upon  the  lounge ;  and  Hector  sat  near,  shading  her  eyes 
from  the  light.  Suddenly  he  observed  a  slight  start,  and  a 
cessation  of  her  breath. 

"  You  were  dreaming,"  he  said,  leaning  over  her. 

It  was  some  seconds  before  she  spoke.  "Did  you  see 
that  face  ?  " 

«  A  face  ?     Where  ?  " 

"  At  the  window.     Do  not  stir  ;  it  may  come  again." 

They  waited  several  minutes.  Both  watched,  but  saw 
nothing.  "  Are  you  sure  there  was  a  face  ?  " 

"  I  saw  it  plainly  !  It  peered  in  between  the  curtains. 
But  it  vanished." 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,"  said  Hector ;  for  Charlotte  trembled. 

"  I  am  not ;  but  it  gave  me  a  start !  There  is  scarcely 
anything  more  frightful  than  such  an  apparition  at  a  win 
dow  by  night.  The  darkness  and  mystery" —  Another 
tremor,  and  her  hand  pressed  Hector's  arm. 

"  Again  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  It  passed  by  the  casement !  " 

"  I  was  looking,  but  saw  nothing." 

"  The  lamp  shines  in  your  eyes,"  said  Charlotte.  "  I  saw 
the  outline  distinctly." 

"  Sit  still,"  and  he  arose  softly.  "  I  will  try  what  dis 
coveries  I  can  make." 

"  You  will  not  leave  the  house  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

He  left  his  lamp  in  the  kitchen,  and,  muffling  himself  in 


THE  FACE  AT  THE   WINDOW  265 

his  cloak,  went  out  silently  by  the  back  way.  The  sky 
was  heavily  overcast ;  but  the  snow  upon  the  ground  gave 
a  faint  glimmer  to  the  night.  Hector  moved  cautiously 
towards  the  front  yard,  watching  and  listening.  He  heard 
nothing,  saw  no  living  object.  He  advanced  to  the  trees, 
and,  passing  through  the  open  gate,  looked  up  and  down 
the  road.  No  discovery.  After  some  minutes  he  gave  up 
the  search  ;  but,  as  he  turned  to  retrace  his  steps,  he  per 
ceived  a  movement  by  the  trunk  of  one  of  the  large  trees. 
He  rushed  to  the  spot,  and  a  muffled  figure  stepped  out 
before  him.  Hector  was  no  coward  ;  but  the  promptness 
with  which  he  was  met  gave  his  blood  a  start. 

"  Good-evening,  sir,"  said  he.  The  figure  stood  silent 
and  motionless.  "  I  said  good-evening.  It  is  politeness  to 
return  a  salutation.  What  is  your  business  here  ?  " 

The  same  silence  and  mystery.  A  deep  determination 
swelled  in  Hector's  tones.  "  Though  you  have  no  tongue, 
you  have,  at  least,  a  face  !  If  I  cannot  hear  the  one,  I'll 
see  the  other ! "  Still  no  answer,  and  Hector  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  figure's  arm.  "  Will  you  speak  ?  " 

His  grasp  tightened ;  but  at  the  instant  he  was  shaken 
off,  and  the  man  sprang  upon  him.  He  was  not  unpre 
pared,  but  the  suddenness  of  the  onset  caused  him  to  recoil. 
As  he  did  so,  with  a  dexterous  movement  he  cast  off  his 
cloak,  and  flung  it,  outspread,  full  into  the  face  of  his  antag 
onist;  then,  while  the  latter  was  beating  it  off,  he  seized 
him  by  the  middle,  lifted  him  clear  from  his  feet,  and 
hurled  him  with  all  his  might  upon  the  ground. 

The  snow  was  not  deep ;  yet  it  was  sufficient  to  break 
the  force  of  the  fall.  And  now  the  cloak,  which  had  previ 
ously  embarrassed  the  assailant,  did  him  excellent  service. 
While  he  fell  upon  one  part  of  it,  he  managed  to  twist  the 
opposite  corner  about  Hector's  face  and  chest.  The 
struggle  was  violent.  Both  regained  their  feet  together ; 
and  the  assailant,  literally  tearing  himself  from  Hector's 
embrace,  fled  with  all  speed  down  the  road.  Hector  did 


266  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

not  pursue,  but,  gathering  up  his  cloak,  returned  to  the 
house.  At  the  door  he  was  met  by  the  alarmed  and  eager 
Charlotte.  She  suppressed  a  cry  of  pain.  His  face  was 
streaked  with  blood. 

"  I  can't  be  much  hurt,"  said  he,  "  since  I  didn't  know  it. 
I  received  a  slight  brush  in  carrying  away  this  trophy." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  has  the  appearance  of  a  coat-button,  with  a  strip  of 
cloth  attached,  like  unto  a  comet  with  a  tail.  It  belongs  to 
the  man  you  saw  at  the  window.  You  look  frightened; 
but  there's  no  occasion." 

"  Who  was  it  ?  " 

"  You  can  guess  as  well  as  I.  Not  a  word  could  I  force 
from  the  villain ;  and  his  intention  evidently  was  to  knock 
me  down,  then  make  his  escape.  I  know  of  but  one  man 
who  could  have  any  possible  motive  for  prowling  around 
our  windows.  I  imagine  how  a  jealous  rage  might  prompt 
him  to  the  act,  even  with  110  definite  purpose  in  view." 

"  But  his  promises  " 

"  They  would  not  be  the  first  he  has  broken.  However 
sincere  he  may  have  been  in  making  them,  he  is  a  slave  to 
passion,  and  there  is  no  faith  to  be  placed  in  him.  Oh," 
said  Hector,  "if  it  had  not  been  for  my  father's  accident, 
all  danger  from  him  would  be  by  this  time  at  an  end,  and 
you  should  stand  by  my  side  before  the  world !  —  But 
don't  be  troubled.  I  will  know  to-morrow." 

On  the  following  day  Hector  made  an  errand  to  the 
village,  but  sought  in  vain  for  a  clew  to  the  mystery.  On 
his  way  home,  however,  stopping  to  make  some  purchases 
at  a  store,  he  encountered  there  a  poor  tailor,  who  had  his 
shop  in  an  obscure  street  of  the  town. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Peter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do  ?  "  said  Peter  obsequiously.  "  You 
are  ever  so  much  a  stranger  !  " 

"  How  is  business  this  winter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not   over  'n'  above  bright.     Give   me   a   call.     I 


THE  FACE  AT  THE   WINDOW  267 

don't  do  a  very  smashing  business,  but  my  work  is  done 
well." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  replied  Hector  ;  "  and  the  first  I  have 
to  be  done  in  town  shall  be  given  to  you." 

"  Thank  you  !  "  said  Peter. 

"  You  are  looking  at  some  buttons.  Let  me  help  you 
choose  them.  What  sort  of  a  button  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  A  good  overcoat  button,"  said  Peter.  "  Something 
about  this  size  and  quality,"  showing  an  exact  mate  to  the 
trophy  Hector  had  brought  off  the  night  before. 

"  That's  a  handsome  button  !  " 

"  It's  a  good  and  durable  article,"  answered  Peter  pro 
fessionally.  "  I've  an  assortment  of  these ;  but  I'm  doing 
a  job  for  a  fanciful  customer,  —  he  wants  something  dif 
ferent  ;  and,  in  consequence  of  one  being  lost  from  his  coat, 
I'm  to  change  the  whole  set." 

"  If  I  kne\v  your  customer,"  said  Hector,  "  I  might  tell 
you  just  what  article  he  would  fancy.'" 

'"  Of  course,"  returned  Peter  softly,  "  there'll  be  no 
harm  in  mentioning  it,  though  he  appeared  a  little  sensi 
tive  about  having  it  known  't  he'd  come  back  to  town,  or  't 
I  was  doing  his  work.  It's  llobert  Greenwich." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Hector.  "  Then  here  is  just  the  button. 
Give  him  a  set  of  these  by  all  means  !  " 

He  chose  the  device  of  a  serpent  biting  its  own  coils. 
Peter  admired  the  selection,  and  declared  that  he  should 
abide  by  it. 

"  He  shall  wear  serpentine  buttons,  and  have  me  to 
thank  for  it !  "  said  Hector  to  himself.  "  Meanwhile,  I 
must  take  out  his  fangs." 

He  visited  a  banking-office,  where  he  had  money  de 
posited,  and  procured  a  draft  upon  Xew  York  ;  then  has 
tened  home  to  Charlotte.  "  It  is  as  I  feared.  Robert  is 
in  town.  But  don't  be  disturbed.  My  resolution  is 
formed." 

"  You  will  go  ?  "  said  Charlotte,  pale  with  anxiety. 


268  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Yes  —  at  once.  I  have  delayed  too  long.  Be  brave, 
Charlotte  !  —  I  must  speak  with  father." 

Mr.  Dunbury  was  sitting  up,  with  his  feet  upon  a  chair, 
and  his  unfortunate  arm  in  a  sling,  when  Hector  entered 
the  room.  "  What  orders  have  you  for  me  to-day,  father  ?  " 

"  None  that  I  know  of."  Mr.  Dunbury's  voice  sounded 
like  a  growl.  Hector  was  not  surprised ;  for  he  had  not 
heard  him  speak  pleasantly  since  his  accident. 

"  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  No.  I  am  better.  I  can  wait  upon  myself.  It  is  time 
I  was  doing  something.  I  have  been  here  long  enough." 

"  You  couldn't  have  chosen  a  better  time,"  said  Hector ; 
"  for  there  is  little  to  be  done  on  the  farm,  scarcely  enough 
to  keep  Corny  in  motion.  It  is  as  much  as  you  ought  to  do 
to  oversee  things,  where  you  think  there  is  need.  Could 
you  confine  yourself  to  this,  in  case  I  should  leave  you  for 
a  few  days  ?  " 

"  At  all  events,  I  can  dispense  with  your  services,  if  that 
is  what  you  wish." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,  father.  I  never  did  anything 
more  cheerfully  than  what  I  have  had  to  do  for  you.  Has 
it  appeared  otherwise  ?  " 

There  was  a  thrill  of  emotion  in  Hector's  voice,  which 
softened  his  parent.  "  I  acknowledge  you  have  shown  me 
all  the  kindness  I  have  deserved.  More,  perhaps  ;  for  I  have 
not  been  patient ;  I  have  given  you  cause  to  abandon  me." 

"  I  have  had  no  thought  of  abandoning  you  —  no  wish  to 
leave  you  for  a  day.  But  I  have  other  duties  to  perform. 
I  should  have  gone  about  them  within  three  days  of  my 
return  from  Canada  with  Charlotte,  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
your  accident.  It  has  not  been  without  misgivings  that  I 
have  neglected  them ;  and  now  circumstances  render  it  im 
perative  that  they  should  be  attended  to  at  once." 

"  You  do  not  see  fit  to  impart  your  business  to  me." 

"  I  cannot  very  well  do  so  until  my  return ;  because  it  is 
not  altogether  my  own." 


THE  FACE  AT  THE   WINDOW  269 

«  Whose,  then  ?  " 

"  So  much  I  can  tell  you,  but  let  it  be  in  confidence  ;  it 
is  Charlotte's." 

"  Charlotte's,  —  hem  !  "  muttered  Mr.  Dunbury,  with  a 
clouded  brow.  "  I  don't  understand  Charlotte.  She  came 
here  a  servant.  One  would  think  now  she  was  mistress  of 
the  house." 

"  Father,"  replied  Hector,  "  this  is  a  subject  we  will  not 
argue.  You  know  that  mamma's  welfare  required  that  she 
should  be  here  ;  and  it  was  by  your  consent,  if  not  by  your 
desire,  that  I  went  for  her.  She  yielded  to  our  entreaties ; 
but  it  was  at  a  sacrifice  of  peculiar  advantages  her  Canadian 
home  afforded  ;  and,  in  return,  I  promised  to  transact  the 
personal  business  of  hers  to  which  I  have  alluded.  I  have 
now  to  fulfil  my  promise.  On  my  return  you  shall  know 
everything." 

"  When  do  you  leave  ?  " 

"  To-morrow  ;  and  I  may  be  absent  two  or  three  weeks." 

"  Very  well,"  muttered  Mr.  Dunbury. 

His  countenance  showed  a  sullen  discontent ;  but  he 
gave  the  subject  no  more  words,  and  it  only  remained 
for  Hector  to  make  preparations  for  his  journey. 


270  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XXIX 

THE    GREENWICH    FAMILY 

IN  a  small,  old-fashioned  sitting-room,  —  a  tall  chest  of 
drawers  with  brass  handles  on  one  side,  a  suspended  book 
case  on  the  other,  and  an  ancient  clock,  with  weights  and 
pendulum  swinging  almost  to  the  floor,  in  the  corner, — the 
Greenwich  family  might  have  been  found  assembled  early 
one  winter's  evening.  Near  the  centre  was  a  table,  at 
which  sat  the  squire,  with  spectacles  on  his  nose,  a  worn 
and  venerable  volume  open  before  him,  and  his  snuff-box 
at  his  left  hand.  Behind  him,  in  an  obscure  position,  sat 
the  meek  Mrs.  Greenwich,  knitting.  At  the  end  of  the 
table  was  Etty,  the  genius,  engaged  upon  a  poetical  com 
position,  her  large,  high  forehead  shining  like  marble,  as 
she  leaned  over  her  paper  in  the  light.  Last,  not  least, 
was  Robert,  in  the  corner  opposite  the  clock,  with  his  head 
on  his  breast,  his  arms  folded,  and  his  legs  stretched  out 
towards  the  stove. 

"  How  many  varses  have  you  composed,  my  child  ?  " 
whispered  Mrs.  Greenwich,  behind  her  husband's  back. 

"  Five,"  replied  Etty,  with  a  perplexed  look.  "  I'm  try 
ing  to  find  a  rhyme  to  crystal  ;  then  I  shall  have  six." 

"  Pistol,"  suggested  Mrs.  Greenwich. 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich  ! "  said  the  squire,  in  a  grave  tone, 
"  are  you  aware  that  I  am  reading  ? " 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  lady  obsequiously. 

Silence  again.  The  old  gentleman  reading ;  Etty  puz 
zling  her  unhappy  brain  over  her  composition ;  Robert 
chewing  the  cud  of  meditation  in  the  corner.  Presently 


THE  GREENWICH   FAMILY  271 

Mrs.  G-reenwich  moved  her  chair  carefully  back,  with  a 
smile  of  maternal  encouragement  brightening  in  her  face. 

"  Can  you  make  pistol  do  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich  !  "  said  the  squire's  precise  accents, 
"  how  many  times  must  I  request  not  to  be  disturbed  when 
that  I  am  reading  ?  "  He  pushed  his  book  across  the  table, 
shoved  back  his  chair,  raised  his  spectacles  above  his  eye 
brows,  and  rapped  the  lid  of  his  snuff-box.  Mrs.  Green 
wich  gasped  ;  Etty  sighed  ;  Robert  crossed  his  legs  and 
scowled.  A  family  lecture  was  expected.  Whilst  the  old 
gentleman  was  clearing  his  throat,  and  pursing  up  his  mouth 
into  a  patriarchal  grimace,  his  wife  hazarded  an  explanation. 

"  Etty  couldn't  find  a  rhyme  to  crystal,  and  I  thought  it 
would  do  no  harm  to  help  her  a  little.  Poor  child  !  she 
doesn't  receive  any  too  much  encouragement " 

Mr.  Greenwich  raised  his  hand.  That  hand  meant 
silence  ;  and  silence  ensued. 

"  Daughter  ?  " 

«  What  ! " 

"  Daughter  ?  " 

Etty,  more  lady-like  :   "  What,  sir  ?  " 

"  Why  did  you  not  respond,  when  that  I  addressed  you 
before  ?  » 

«  I  did,  sir." 

"  What  did  you  say,  daughter  ?  " 

Etty,  hesitating  :   "  I  said  —  what." 

"  Was  that  a  response,  daughter  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  That  is  all.     Remember.     Now,  what  is  the  rhyme  ?  " 

"  A  rhyme  to  crystal." 

"  I  thought  pistol  was  good,"  Mrs.  Greenwich  ventured 
to  interpose. 

"  There's  a  rhyme  for  you,  Etty,  ready  cocked  and 
primed,"  said  Robert,  with  gloomy  humor,  from  his  corner. 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich  !  Robert  !  I  am  speaking.  Respect 
the  paternal  head  !  Daughter  ?  " 


272  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

«  What,  father  ?  " 

"  Name  the  subject  of  your  composition. " 

"  '  The  Fair  Nun's  Complaint/  "  said  Etty  readily. 

"  It  is  absurd,"  returned  the  paternal  head,  with  a  look 
at  Mrs.  Greenwich,  which  expressed  his  opinion  of  her  ca 
pacity,  "to  suggest  a  rhyme,  without  regard  to  the  subject 
of  the  composition.  What  has  the  '  Fair  Nun's  Complaint ' 
to  do  with  pistols  ?  " 

Mrs.  Greenwich,  simpering :  "  I  thought  Etty  could  work 
it  in,  she's  so  ingenious  !  " 

Mr.  Greenwich,  with  a  significant  nod :  "  That  will  do, 
Mrs.  Greenwich  !  Now  to  the  poem."  The  genius  read  a 
stanza.  "Very  creditable,  my  daughter.  Subject,  Fair 
Nun's  Complaint ;  quatrains ;  octosyllabic  measure,  with 
redundant  syllable  at  the  end  of  first  and  third  lines ; 
rhyme  required  to  crystal.  Now  for  our  rules.  What  is 
the  body  of  the  word  ?  " 

That  was  found  to  be  ystal ;  and  the  application  of  rules 
consisted  in  finding  among  consonant  sounds  another  head 
to  match  the  decapitated  word.  Father  and  daughter  went 
through  with  the  alphabet  together,  but  without  success. 
Heads  were  plenty  enough;  but,  as  Eobert  moodily  sug 
gested,  the  difficulty  was  to  find  one  that  had  sense  in  it. 
An  endless  variety  of  such  combinations  as  bystal,  cystal, 
dystal,  down  to  zystal,  were  manufactured,  not  one  of  which 
existed  in  any  known  dictionary.  There  was  a  solitary 
exception.  It  was  the  word  pystal,  or  pistol. 

"  Pistol,"  said  Mr.  Greenwich,  "  appears,  then,  to  be  our 
only  perfect  rhyme." 

"  What  did  I  tell  you,  Etty  ? "  spoke  up  the  mother, 
with  a  gleam  of  triumph. 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich,"  observed  the  paternal  head,  with 
stern  precision,  "  your  assistance  is  NOT  required." 

"  Oh  ! "  —  and  Mrs.  Greenwich  settled  down  again,  with 
an  annihilated  expression. 

"  What  do  we  do  in  the  case,  daughter  ?  "  said  the  squire. 


TEE  GREENWICH  FAMILY  273 

Etty  replied  that  where  no  perfect  rhymes  would  answer, 
imperfect  ones  might  be  used. 

"  Then,"  said  Robert,  "  what  do  you  say  to  whistle  ?  If 
your  nun,  with  the  tears  of  crystal,  only  knew  how  to 
whistle,  you  would  be  provided  for ;  you  could  bring  it  in 
finely.  Or  gristle,  or  sizzle  —  you  have  plenty  of  such 
rhymes.  How  would  drizzle  do  ?" 

"  Son  Robert,  you  amaze  me  ! "  uttered  the  paternal 
head,  with  a  look  of  solemn  displeasure.  Then  turning  to 
Etty :  "  Daughter,  I  have  the  required  rhyme.  It  is  a 
felicitous  word,  inasmuch  as  that  it  is  in  perfect  keeping 
with  your  subject.  It  is  vestal.  A  nun  may  be  called  a 
vestal.  I  trust  to  your  happy  talent  to  make  fitting  use  of 
it  in  the  structure  of  the  lines." 

But  Robert's  ridicule  was  too  much  for  the  sensitive 
child ;  and  the  discovery  of  a  fine  rhyme  was  no  consola 
tion  for  his  sarcasm. 

"Hem!"  coughed  the  paternal  head,  moving  in  his 
chair.  lie  drew  up  his  book,  and  shoved  it  from  him 
again  ;  wiped  his  spectacles,  and  saddled  them  once  more 
on  his  eyebrows  ;  then  took  another  pinch  of  snuff.  "  You 
may  put  aside  your  varses  for  the  present,  daughter.  Mrs. 
Greenwich,  will  you  oblige  me  by  dispensing  with  your 
knitting-work,  and  bestowing  attention  upon  my  remarks  ? 
Son  Robert,  a  more  respectful  attitude  will  be  quite  as  be 
coming  in  listening  to  what  your  father  has  to  say.  When 
that  all  appear  prepared  to  hear,  I  will  proceed." 

Robert  changed  his  position  by  crossing  his  legs  in  a 
contrary  direction,  and  clasping  his  hands  over  his  head, 
instead  of  behind  his  chair.  A  deep  silence  followed, 
broken  only  by  the  purring  of  the  cat,  as  she  rubbed  her 
neck  affectionately  against  the  old  lady's  dress,  and  by  the 
slow  ticking  of  the  old  clock  in  the  corner. 

Mr.  Greenwich  impressively :  "  We  are  waiting  for 
Robert." 

"  Oh,  waiting  for  me  ?     What  can  I  do  for  you,  sir  ?  " 


274  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  If  you  do  not  perceive,  we  will  wait  until  that  you  do." 
Whether  Robert  knew  from  experience  that  his  father 
would  keep  his  word,  and  wait  all  night,  if  necessary,  in 
the  same  fearful  silence,  or  whether  he  reflected  that  it 
was  injudicious  to  provoke  the  paternal  displeasure  too 
openly,  he  yielded  the  point,  and  assumed  a  more  decorous 
attitude. 

"  Son  Robert,"  then  said  the  old  gentleman,  placing  the 
book  on  his  knees,  and  laying  his  spectacles  upon  it,  "  your 
conduct  has  failed  of  pleasing  me  of  late,  and  I  have  treas 
ured  a  few  words  for  your  edification.  A  fit  occasion  to 
deliver  them  hath  arrived."  Then  followed  a  tedious  dis 
course,  of  half  an  hour's  duration,  on  the  subject  of  family 
discipline,  reverence  to  the  paternal  head,  and  kindred 
topics,  with  a  particular  application  to  Robert's  case. 
"  But  this  is  not  all.  The  report  is,  son  Robert,  that  you 
indulge  in  dram-drinking  ;  and  you  have  carried  your  dis 
regard  for  my  wishes  so  far  as  to  smoke  cigars  even  in  my 
own  house."  Thereupon  the  paternal  head  took  a  violent 
pinch  of  snuff.  "  You  may  reply,  that  you  are  of  an  age 
to  regulate  your  own  conduct  in  this  respect.  I  will  fore 
stall  the  remark,  by  saying  that  no  child  of  mine  is  of  an 
age  to  transgress  my  commands  beneath  my  own  roof. 
Your  other  irregularities  have  not  escaped  public  censure, 
and  I  have  more  than  once  taken  occasion  to  remind  you 
of  your  derelictions.  Your  instability  of  character  has  be 
come  notorious.  When  that  you  returned  from  Mobile, 
where  you  had  an  excellent,  lucrative  situation,  you  gave  as 
an  excuse  that  you  had  taken  a  summer  vacation,  to  avoid 
the  extreme  heat  of  the  climate.  But,  the  summer  over, 
you  must  be  posting  off  to  the  north  in  search  of  new  em 
ployment.  Now  there  is  another  change ;  and  you  have 
some  mysterious  business  on  your  hands,  which  you  will 
communicate  to  nobody.  You  go  and  come  as  the  whim 
takes  you ;  appearing  to  make  my  house  a  sort  of  den  to 
hide  in,  and  acting  more  like  a  culprit  than  a  son  of  re- 


THE  GREENWICH  FAMILY  275 

spec-table  Squire  Greenwich.  Your  disposition,  moreover, 
exhibits  the  effect  of  idle  habits,  inasmuch  as  that  you  are 
morose  and  sullen,  and  that  your  principal  pleasure  appears 
to  consist  in  ridiculing  your  sister's  noble  aims.  I  need 
not  again  remind  you  that  all  this  is  to  be  reformed.  You 
will  now  please  withdraw,  and  ponder  what  has  been  said. 
Daughter,  I  have  a  few  remarks  for  you." 

Without  a  word,  Robert  rose,  and  went  to  his  chamber. 
Half  an  hour  later,  his  door  was  pushed  open,  and  Etty 
looked  timidly  in.  He  sat  before  his  desk,  leaning  his  face 
upon  his  clenched  hands,  with  an  unfinished  letter  lying 
before  him  in  the  lamplight.  The  child's  eyes  were  red 
with  weeping;  but  she  had  dried  her  tears,  which  her 
brother  so  much  hated,  and  she  was  trying  very  hard  to 
look  cheerful,  as  she  approached  the  desk. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  What  she  wanted  was  but  a 
simple  and  easy  thing  to  grant.  The  poor  child  could  not 
sleep  that  night  without  telling  him  how  sorry  she  was  to 
have  displeased  him,  and  to  ask  his  forgiveness.  But  his 
tone  and  manner  frightened  her.  "  Come  here,"  said  he, 
as  she  stood  shrinking  before  him.  "  Did  you  want  to  see 
what  I  was  writing  ?  Head  it !  " 

He  extended  the  manuscript,  and,  as  she  bent  forward, 
confused  and  trembling,  to  obey,  struck  her  with  it  upon 
the  cheek. 

"  Is  it  interesting  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  malicious  laugh. 

"  Oh,  Robert !   I  did  not  mean  "  — 

"  That  will  do,  my  dear.  Thank  you  for  your  interest 
in  my  affairs.  In  return,  I'll  give  you  another  rhyme  for 
your  crystal.  It  is  mizzle.  In  familiar  colloquy,  it  signi 
fies  vamose  ;  cut  stick ;  make  yourself  scarce  ;  evaporate ; 
in  short,  go  away.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

With  a  bursting  heart,  holding  her  hand  to  her  face, 
Etty  hastened  to  relieve  him  of  her  hated  presence,  and, 
retreating  to  her  room,  threw  herself  upon  her  pillow  in 
convulsions  of  girlish  grief. 


276  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 


XXX 

AN    UNWELCOME    GUEST 

HECTOR'S  preparations  were  made.  Then  came  the 
parting. 

Charlotte  was  brave  and  strong ;  she  gave  him  only  words 
and  looks  of  encouragement,  and  waved  her  handkerchief 
to  him  from  her  window,  until  he  was  shut  from  her  view. 
When  she  entered  Mrs.  Dunbury's  room,  it  was  she  who  had 
strength  and  cheer  to  impart  to  the  desponding  mother. 

Mr.  Dunbury,  still  suffering  from  his  hurts,  grew  more 
moody  than  before.  In  the  unoccupied  hours  of  his  indis 
position,  his  morbid  mind  dwelt  upon  the  past.  He  re 
membered  the  golden  prospects  of  his  youth,  his  proud 
family  connections,  the  elegance  and  ease  that  graced  his 
early  life.  From  that  bright  beginning,  his  star  had  waned 
and  sunk,  until  now  he  could  look  upon  himself  only  as  a 
coarse  and  vulgar  old  man.  He  was  conscious  that  all  the 
finer  feelings  of  his  youth  were  deadened.  Life  had  be 
come  a  desert,  with  not  one  oasis  in  the  dreary  waste  of 
common  toils  and  trials  on  which  to  feed  a  hope.  And 
it  was  his  own  wretched  folly  which  alone  he  had  to  accuse. 
Conviviality,  extravagance,  wild  dissipation,  ruin ;  such  was 
his  history.  Two  pictures,  in  tragical  contrast,  hung  for 
ever  before  his  eyes,  —  what  he  might  have  been,  what  he 
was  !  Thus  memory  became  remorse,  and  gnawed  his  heart. 
Or  if  at  any  time  his  better  angel  whispered  that  by  a  true 
life  he  might  still  atone  for  his  errors,  his  thousand  resolu 
tions  in  the  past,  made  only  to  be  broken,  arose  like  ghosts 
before  him  grinning  and  mocking. 


AN   UNWELCOME  GUEST  277 

All  this  Charlotte  perceived.  She  knew,  too,  that  he 
regarded  her  with  jealous  eyes.  He  was  proud  still ;  he  re 
membered  that  Hector  was  the  sou  of  a  gentleman,  and  that 
Charlotte  had  come  into  the  house  as  a  servant.  He  had 
observed  their  intimacy ;  and  now  Hector  was  abroad  on 
her  business.  "  The  next  thing  will  be  a  marriage  ! "  He 
expressed  his  thoughts  to  his  wife  ;  he  did  not  conceal  them 
from  Charlotte.  Still,  she  had  no  condemnation  for  him, 
but  much  compassion.  She  sought  his  good-will ;  she 
exerted  herself  to  please  him  ;  and  there  was  a  charm  about 
her  which  not  even  he  could  resist. 

One  day,  having  dressed  his  hurts  as  usual,  she  asked 
permission  to  comb  his  hair.  He  answered  that  he  could 
never  endure  any  person  to  touch  it;  but  her  tone,  her 
smile,  and  the  winning  assurance  with  which  she  brought 
the  brush  and  comb,  quite  disarmed  his  ill-nature.  Never 
was  experiment  more  successful.  There  was  certainly  a 
magnetism  in  her  touch  ;  so  far  from  being  irritated,  he 
felt  only  a  soothing  influence.  The  invalid  looked  on  in 
mild  delight  to  see  Charlotte  do,  with  such  perfect  ease 
and  grace,  what  had  never  before  been  accomplished.  Un 
fortunately  Corny 's  head  was  put  in  at  the  door. 

"  'S  a  man  out  here.  Do'uo'  what  he  wants;  guess  he'd 
like  to  hire  out.  Said  he'd  saw  for  me,  if  I'd  come  in  an' 
tell  ye." 

"  Tell  me  what  ?  " 

"  Do'no'  ;  didn't  say,"  drawled  Corny. 

The  boy  was  sent  about  his  business,  with  an  injunction 
to  enter  the  house  with  no  more  such  meaningless  errands. 
But  in  five  minutes  the  irrepressible  head  reappeared. 

"  ToP  me  to  come  in  an'  tell  ye ! " 

"  To  tell  us  what  ?  " 

"  Didn't  say  ;  I  can't  git  nothin'  out  on  him.  Guess  it's 
Charlotte  he  wants ;  for  he  said  -'twan't  you  nor  Mis'  Dun- 
bury  nor  Bridget,  nuther ;  an'  when  I  axed  if  'twas  Char 
lotte,  his  eyes  looked  —  I  can't  tell  ho\v,  but  real  funny, 


278  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

an'  he  called  me  Telescope.  That's  all ;  an'  he  made  me 
come  in  an'  tell  ye." 

Mr.  Dunbury  answered  with  a  look  which  Corny  under 
stood,  and  he  withdrew  muttering.  Charlotte  continued 
her  task.  But  the  charm  was  broken.  Her  hand  had 
grown  nervous,  and  Mr.  Dunbury's  equanimity  was  de 
stroyed.  Another  reappearance  of  Corny. 

"  I  do'no'  what  to  do.  I  can't  git  red  on  him.  He  keeps 
makin'  me  come  an'  tell  ye.  I  never  see  sich  a  man.  He 
can't  saw  wood  more'n  a  catamount;  and  he's  mos'  broke 
the  saw  a'ready." 

With  a  fiery  expression  Mr.  Dunbury  arose. 

"  Let  me  go  !  "  cried  Charlotte.  In  the  woodshed  she 
found  the  incomprehensible  visitor.  He  was  making  vio 
lent  efforts  to  extricate  the  saw,  which  had  become  pinched 
in  the  stick  he  was  cutting,  notwithstanding  the  handfuls 
of  snow  he  had  put  in  to  facilitate  the  movement. 

"Edward!" 

He  looked  up,  took  off  his  hat,  and  drawing  up  his 
meagre  figure  with  great  dignity,  made  a  profound  obei 
sance. 

"Salutation,  your  majesty!  I  abdicate  the  saw-horse! 
I  hope  my  appearance  is  not  premature.  I  am  unused  to 
state  occasions." 

"  You've  e'en-a-most  broke  the  saw  ! "  muttered  Corny. 

"  Verification !  "  whispered  Edward,  with  a  keen  glance. 
"If  dissatisfied,  you  can  appeal.  But  say  no  more  and 
here's  a  butternut  for  you." 

"  I  do'  want  none  o'  yer  butt'nuts  !  I  s'pose  I  shall  be 
blamed  for  these  'ere  teeth  bein'  broke ;  that's  all  I  care 
fur." 

"  Broken  teeth  —  so  shall  truth  be  delivered  !  Acts 
have  their  meaning.  I  surprise  your  majesty  ?  " 

"I  little  suspected  to  see  you  again  so  soon,"  said  Char 
lotte.  "  Where  are  you  from  to-day  ?  " 

"  From  Siberia,  the  land  of  exile  !  "  answered  the  prime 


AN   UNWELCOME  GUEST  279 

minister.  "  To  bring  your  majesty  an  offering.  Will  you 
receive  it  now  ?  " 

"What  is  it,  Edward?" 

"  A  head,  your  majesty  ;  that  of  a  subject  who  had  the 
misfortune  to  offend  you.  I  have  it  with  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  cried  Charlotte. 

"  Will  you  have  it  in  a  sack,  or  on  a  charger  ?  It  awaits 
your  bidding !  " 

"  Where,  Edward  ?  " 

"On  these  shoulders,  your  majesty!"  and  the  prime 
minister  bowed  gravely.  "  If  convenient,  I'd  have  pickled 
it,  and  brought  it  you  in  a  jar.  But  it  can  be  presently 
taken  off,  at  your  command.  Behold  the  executioner  with 
his  axe !  "  indicating  Corny  with  his  woodsaw. 

" Edward,"  said  Charlotte,  "these  things  are  unworthy 
of  you.  Come  in,  and  tell  us  of  your  journey." 

"  Though  worn,  and  shorn,  and  tattered,  and  torn,  he 
was  onward  borne  !  There  were  wolves  and  bald-eagles, 
but  the  Seven  Wise  Men  carried  him  through.  Over  the 
snow,  now  high,  now  low,  now  fast,  now  slow,  on,  on  we 
go  !  whoo-ip  !  whoo-oa  !  That's  the  ginger  !  " 

"  Edward,  do  you  hear  me  ?  You  are  among  rela 
tives  now,  who  will  not  appreciate  your  nights  of  intel 
lect.  You  must  be  like  other  people,  if  you  would  please 
me." 

"  What !  since  that  morning  ?  You  thought  to  deceive  ; 
but,  glory  to  the  sacred  titmouse  !  it  was  all  whispered  in 
my  ear.  You  rode  off  grandly  with  Prince  Hector ;  but  I 
was  at  the  church  before  you.  I  covered  myself  with  a 
blanket,  and  hid  behind  the  organ." 

"  Dear  Edward,"  pleaded  Charlotte,  "  if  you  have  any 
regard  for  me,  forget  all  that ;  speak  of  it  to  no  one  here  ! 
Consider  me  as  I  was  before  !  " 

"  Prince  Hector  looked  royal ;  but  the  hypocrite  in  the 
robes  turned  pale  as  his  shirt.  I  groaned  three  times  for 
the  echo.  Wo  !  wo  !  wo  !  —  how  it  sounded  in  the  roof ! 


280  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

I  laughed  like  a  handsome  young  widow  at  the  funeral  of 
a  rich  old  husband.  'Twas  solemn  fun  !  " 

"  Edward,  you  do  not  please  me,  and  I  shall  leave  you. 
In  that  room  you  will  find  your  relatives." 

"  Siberia !  "  exclaimed  the  prime  minister.  "  If  my  wits 
wander,  it's  owing  to  the  frost :  u-g-h-h  !  how  I  shivered  ! 
I  lamented  the  marriage  ;  but  I  did  not  envy  the  prince. 
So  —  or  call  in  the  executioner.  Ho  !  what  functionary  ?  " 

The  sitting-room  door  was  opened,  and  Mr.  Dunbury 
appeared. 

"  Edward  Longman  !  how  came  you  here  ?  " 

"  What  shall  I  say  ?  "  asked  the  prime  minister  aside. 
"  Can  I  mention  the  Seven  Wise  Men  ?  " 

"  No,  Edward.      Tell  him  you  walked,  if  you  did  walk." 

"  I  walked,  if  I  did  walk,  your  honor ! "  and  bowing 
profoundly,  Edward  looked  to  Charlotte  for  her  approba 
tion. 

A  shadowy  scowl  passed  over  the  wintry  landscape  of 
Mr.  Dunbury's  face,  as  he  made  a  motion  for  the  wanderer 
to  go  in. 

"  Welcome  is  the  honey  of  souls,"  remarked  Edward, 
"  but  dark  looks  are  gall.  Thank  your  honor.  In  our  king 
dom  there  shall  be  schools  of  the  virtues,  and  hospitality 
shall  be  taught  before  ciphering.  I  engage  you  as  a  pro 
fessor.  There's  a  smiling  face,"  scrutinizing  Mrs.  Dun- 
bury,  who  held  out  her  hand  to  him  from  her  easy  chair, 
"  but  we  are  not  what  we  seem.  Experience  is  the  mother 
of  caution." 

"  Hare  you  forgotten  me,  cousin  ?  " 

"  I  should  do  ill  to  forget  so  venerable  a  lady  !  And 
here's  a  shake  for  you  !  " 

Mrs.  Dunbury  invited  him  to  be  seated,  and  inquired 
about  his  family. 

"  They  are  well,  for  a  family  of  sinners.  The  old  lady 
has  experienced  a  miraculous  cure." 

«  Your  mother  ?  " 


AN    UNWELCOME  GUEST  281 

"Whom  they  call  my  mother.  Disease  has  vanished, 
and  she  enjoys  rest ;  bless  her  dear  old  soul  !  " 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  •" 

"  Oh?  death  is  your  only  doctor !  Let  fools  weep  at 
funerals ;  the  wise  will  take  holiday.  It's  a  weary  world  ; 
and  all  who  live  sin,  and  all  who  sin  suffer.  I  could  name 
an  exception  ;  for  one  soul  is  exempt.  Or  if  ever  he  suf 
fers,"-— the  prime  minister  laid  his  hand  upon  his  breast, 
bowing  graciously,  —  "  it  is  from  spare  diet,  thin  clothes, 
and  the  sins  of  others !  But  he  bears  up,  thanks  to  a 
sound  mind  in  a  sound  body,  and  to  the  Seven  Wise  Men. 
I've  eaten  nothing  since  yesterday,  and  I've  tramped 
through  snow  and  through  water." 

He  glanced  downward  to  his  boots,  which  were  thin,  red, 
and  saturated ;  and  the  expression  of  his  face  was  wild, 
and  weary,  and  haggard.  Mrs.  Dunbury  questioned  him 
concerning  his  mother ;  but  he  shook  his  head  thought 
fully,  still  gazing  at  his  feet. 

"  Give  him  some  dry  socks,"  muttered  Mr.  Dunbury, 
"  and  let  Bridget  set  out  a  luncheon.  I'd  rather  have  seen 
the  cholera  enter  the  house ;  but  while  he  remains  he  must 
be  cared  for." 

'•Thank  you,  professor!"  Edward  looked  up  with  a 
bright  expression.  "  When  I  go,  the  cholera  shall  come. 
The  cramps  are  jolly  !  Then  you'll  think  of  me  ! " 

And  he  laughed  a  light,  airy,  hollow  laugh,  which 
chilled  the  blood  to  hear.  His  eyes  followed  Charlotte,  as 
she  passed  from  the  room ;  then,  moving  over  to  Mrs. 
Dunbury,  he  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth  and  whispered 
mysteriously,  — 

"  She's  a  queenly  figure  !  But  where's  the  bridegroom  ? 
I  am  to  omit  all  titles,  or  I  would  call  him  Prince  Hector. 
'Twas  an  illustrious  marriage,  but  there  was  an  attempt  at 
secrecy." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Dunbury. 

"  State  policy  !      I  suspected  his  second  visit ;  and  they 


282  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

could  not  deceive  me !  They  knew  my  opinions  of  mar 
riage,  and  feared  my  opposition.  But  I  was  at  the  church 
before  them.  Ha !  you  look  troubled  !  " 

"  Dismiss  Charlotte  from  your  mind,  and  dry  your  feet 
by  the  fire,"  said  Mrs.  Dunbury. 

"  Evasion  !  You  are  the  queen-mother ;  and  you  fear 
treason.  I  have  no  griefs ;  but  I  liked  not  that  the  cere 
mony  should  be  mean  and  obscure.  I  would  have  had  it 
grand  and  imposing.  The  guests  are  met,  the  feast  is  set, 
mayst  hear  the  merry  din  !  So  I  cried  wo  !  three  times, 
and  heard  it  echo  in  the  roof.  You  are  the  bridegroom's 
father." 

Mr.  Dunbury  turned  upon  his  wife.  Her  looks  betrayed 
her.  The  shadow  on  his  face  became  that  of  a  thunder-cloud. 

"  This  means  something !  And  you  are  not  ignorant ! 
What  is  it  ?  What  of  Hector  and  Charlotte  ?  " 

Edward  laughed.  "  Excellent  artifice  !  But  no  decep 
tion.  They  had  two  witnesses  at  the  church;  and  I  made 
a  third.  I  was  the  guest  that  had  not  on  a  wedding  gar 
ment." 

His  wild  words  were  cut  short  by  the  appearance  of 
Charlotte. 

"  What  is  this,  I  say  ?  "  roared  Mr.  Dunbury.  "  Have 
I  been  duped  ?  Has  my  son  married  my  servant  ?  " 

Charlotte  clung  to  the  door  for  support. 

"  Mr.  Dunbury  !  —  husband  !  —  father  !  —  in  the  name  of 
mercy,"  pleaded  the  invalid,  "  be  gentle  with  the  child  ! 
If  fault  there  be,  it  is  not  hers,  it  is  Hector's  —  mine  !  Do 
not  kill  her !  » 

The  prayer  was  unheeded.  The  purple  rage  in  Mr. 
Dunbury's  face,  and  the  bursting  fury  of  his  speech,  smote 
Charlotte  like  a  blow.  Edward  set  up  a  shout. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha !  The  world  is  topsy-turvy  !  They  would 
cheat  me  of  my  wit ;  but  artifice,  avaunt !  'Twas  I  that 
hid  in  the  church,  and  groaned  behind  the  organ ! " 


BEOTHEE  AND   SISTER  283 


XXXI 

BROTHER    AND    SISTER 

THE  "  Fair  Nun's  Complaint  "  remained  a  poetical  frag 
ment.  The  young  authoress  felt  no  more  inspiration  for 
the  subject,  from  the  memorable  evening  of  the  rhymes ; 
and  after  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  complete  the 
sixth  stanza,  she  tore  the  manuscript. 

"  Why  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Greenwich,  "  what  makes  you 
do  so  ?  How  sorry  I  am  !  They  were  very  pretty  varses, 
I  am  sure." 

"  I  never  wrote  anything  so  dull  in  my  life  ! "  exclaimed 
Etty. 

"  Oh,  now !  You  needn't  think  so !  You  shall  have 
patience.  Can't  you  remember  the  varses,  and  write  them 
off?" 

« If  I  could,  I  wouldn't !  " 

"  Why,  my  child,  I  am  surprised  !  How  can  you  be  so 
unladylike  ?  What  would  your  father  say  ?  Here,  give 
me  that  other  piece  ;  these  go  together,  don't  they  ?  What 
word  is  that  torn  off  ?  I  can  make  out  all  of  one  varse 
but  that;  and  it's  very  touching,  seems  to  me.  I  don't 
know  when  I've  seen  such  good  poetry  anywhere.  '  The 
moonbeams  'neath  the  convent  dashing,  my  tears  are  glit 
tering  on  the  roof,'  —  those  are  very  beautiful  words  !  " 

"  It  isn't  so ! "  cried  Etty,  attempting  to  snatch  the 
paper. 

"  Oil !  "  said  her  mother,  "  I  haven't  mate  he  the  pieces 
right.  It's  the  moonbeams  that  glitter,  and  the  waves  that 
dash ;  but  I  am  sure  it  reads  well  either  way.  Now,  do 


284  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

you  sit  down  and  finish  it  for  the  Green  Mountain  Herald  ; 
everybody  will  admire  it  in  print,  and  then  your  father 
will  praise  you." 

But  Etty  only  took  the  fragments  to  put  them  into  the 
fire.  Etty  was  human,  although  a  genius.  Perhaps  she  was 
all  the  more  human  on  that  account.  From  her  infancy 
her  heart  had  felt  a  hungering  for  love ;  and  her  hopes  and 
affections  had  centred  in  her  brother,  unworthy  as  he  was. 
His  indifference  gave  her  pain,  without  lessening  her  at 
tachment  ;  and  when  he  was  unkind  to  her,  she  was  more 
ready  to  accuse  herself  than  him.  But  the  most  cruel  test 
to  which  her  love  had  ever  been  put  was  the  blow  with 
which  he  sent  her  from  him  that  night.  Unfortunately 
she  was  kept  from  school,  to  be  under  her  father's  imme 
diate  instruction;  and  she  had  no  companions.  Indeed, 
there  was  but  one  person  whose  sympathy  she  much  de 
sired.  That  person  was  Charlotte  Woods,  whose  kindness 
she  so  gratefully  remembered.  But  she  did  not  know  that 
Robert  ever  went  to  Mr.  Dunbury's  now;  and  if  he  did, 
there  was  no  hope  that  he  would  take  her  with  him. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  Etty  naturally  preferred  solitude 
to  the  company  of  the  family.  But  it  was  winter,  and  her 
mother  would  not  suffer  her  to  sit  in  the  cold  rooms. 
Generally,  however,  there  was  a  fire  in  Robert's  chamber ; 
and,  when  he  was  out,  she  used  to  get  permission  to  sit 
up  there  alone,  pretending  to  take  advantage  of  the  quiet, 
to  study  her  lessons.  She  was  careful  that  Robert  should 
not  find  her  there  ;  listening  for  his  footsteps,  and  gliding 
softly  away  at  his  approach. 

One  evening,  however,  having  ensconced  herself  in  a 
favorite  position  by  the  window,  where  she  could  gaze  at 
the  moon,  and  draw  the  curtains  about  her  in  a  manner 
completely  to  exclude  the  light  of  the  lamp,  she  gave  free 
rein  to  her  fancy,  that  wandered  far  off  into  regions  of 
ideal  hopes  and  sorrows,  while  her  head  sank  upon  her  arm. 
Robert  and  Charlotte  were  married,  and  she  went  to  live 


BROTHER  AND   SISTER  285 

with  them,  and  was  very  happy;  the  only  trouble  being 
that  their  house  was  discovered  to  be  a  convent,  and  that 
her  new  sister  turned  out  to  be  a  nun,  who  was  in  great 
distress  because  she  was  to  be  printed,  for  general  circula 
tion,  in  the  Green  Mountain  Herald.  It  was  Robert  who 
condemned  her  to  that  punishment,  for  wearing  his  white 
satin  waistcoat  to  a  sewing-circle  in  the  village ;  an  of 
fence  nuns  had  a  passion  for  committing,  notwithstanding 
the  fatal  consequences.  Etty  went  to  him  to  plead  Char 
lotte's  cause ;  when  he  struck  her  so  violent  a  blow  with 
the  warrant  he  was  signing,  that  she  awoke. 

She  started  in  terror;  for  the  place  seemed  strange  to 
her,  and  she  heard  voices  in  the  room.  Then  came  the 
shock  of  consciousness  ;  she  remembered  where  she  was ; 
she  had  been  asleep,  and  Robert  had  returned.  He  was 
not  alone ;  he  had  one  or  two  companions  ;  Etty  could  not 
tell  at  first  how  many.  The  lamp  found  burning  on  his 
table  did  not  surprise  him;  for  often,  when  he  was  out, 
she  had  left  a  light  for  him  on  going  to  bed.  But  it  was 
now  late,  the  oil  was  low,  the  dim  flame  cast  but  a  feeble 
ray  in  the  chamber ;  and  the  window  where  the  child  sat 
was  partly  concealed  by  the  bed. 

In  her  first  tremor  of  affright  she  had  not  the  courage 
to  discover  herself:  she  waited  to  still  the  fluttering  of 
her  heart,  and  to  gather  breath  and  strength ;  and  the 
longer  she  waited  the  more  terrible  her  situation  became. 

She  heard  words  which  she  knew  she  ought  not  to  hear. 
Robert  had  introduced  his  companion  in  his  chamber,  at 
that  secret  hour,  that  even  the  circumstance  of  their  con 
ferring  together  might  be  hidden  from  all  the  world.  And 
there  sat  the  young  girl,  an  unwilling  listener  to  all  that 
was  said  !  A  glimpse  she  had  of  some  great  danger  that 
hung  over  one  she  loved  added  intensity  to  her  fears. 
What  the  danger  was,  she  could  not  fully  comprehend ; 
but  it  appeared  none  the  less  awful  for  the  mystery  in 
which  it  was  veiled. 


286  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

How  long  the  interview  lasted,  Etty  had  no  means  of 
julging.  It  would  have  been  difficult  for  her  to  believe 
th.it  so  much  suffering  as  she  experienced  could  be  com 
pressed  within  the  brief  space  of  an  hour.  It  seemed  pro 
longed  through  the  whole  of  a  long  winter's  night. 

At  last  Robert  took  the  lamp  and  conducted  his  compan 
ion  from  the  room ;  she  heard  them  go  softly  down-stairs, 
heard  a  door  open  and  close,  heard  her  father  cry  out  from 
his  bedchamber,  "  Who  is  there  ?  "  and  heard  Robert  an 
swer,  "  I  am  after  a  glass  of  water."  By  this  time  the 
child  stood  trembling  in  her  own  chamber ;  she  had  arrived 
there  without  knowing  how ;  she  had  never  any  recollection 
of  passing  from  room  to  room.  She  waited  until  she  saw 
the  shimmer  of  Robert's  lamp  on  the  landing,  and  heard 
his  door  close  after  him ;  then  shrank  away  in  her  dreary 
room  to  her  bed,  and  covered  her  head,  shivering  with 
terror  and  cold. 

Etty  thought  it  must  now  be  near  morning.  But  she 
had  long  hours  yet  to  wait.  How  often  she  looked  from 
beneath  the  clothes,  to  see  the  glimmer  of  gray  light  on  the 
walls  !  At  last,  at  last,  it  came  ;  the  slow,  reluctant  dawn 
peeped  in  at  the  window.  Her  room  was  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  house  from  her  brother's,  looking  towards  the 
north ;  and,  as  soon  as  it  was  light  enough  to  see,  she  got 
up  and  gazed  anxiously  down  the  valley.  It  was  a  mild 
winter's  morning ;  the  eaves  dripped  with  the  melting 
snow.  Yet  the  earth  was  white,  and  the  road  leading  to 
wards  Mr.  Dunbury's  house  looked  desolate  and  forbidding. 
How  was  she  to  traverse  it  ?  She  dared  not  tell  her 
mother  where  she  wished  to  go,  lest  Robert  should  learn  of 
it,  and  guess  her  purpose  ;  the  only  way  seemed  to  be,  to 
plan  an  escape  from  the  house,  and  then,  on  foot  and  alone, 
to  travel  that  dreary  track  to  save  her  friend. 

A  plan  was  easily  invented.  Her  newly-married  cousins, 
the  Crestons,  lived  a  little  out  of  the  village,  although  in 
an  opposite  direction  from  that  she  wished  to  go.  For 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER  287 

some  time  she  had  been  planning  to  make  them  a  visit,  and 
she  would  ask  permission  of  her  mother  to  go  that  day. 

The  permission  was  asked  and  granted.  But  her  father's 
sanction  was  necessary  to  render  it  valid.  His  decision 
was,  that,  provided  she  would  have  her  lessons  to  recite 
when  he  came  home  to  dinner,  she  might  go  to  her  cousin's 
in  the  afternoon.  Etty  was  in  despair  ;  for  the  afternoon 
would  be  too  late  ;  and  her  father's  decisions  were  unalter 
able.  Fortunately,  her  pale  looks,  discolored  eyes,  and 
want  of  appetite,  attracted  his  attention  at  the  breakfast 
table. 

"  Daughter,  are  you  in  your  usual  health  this  morn 
ing  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father."  Etty's  voice  faltered,  and  her  eyes  fell ; 
for  Robert  had  appeared,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  he 
could  read  her  fearful  secret. 

"  How  late  did  you  study,  last  night  ?  " 

«  Not  —  very  late." 

"  You  shouldn't  study  a  minute  after  eight  o'clock,  my 
child,"  said  the  mother.  "  You  haven't  been  well,  these 
three  weeks ;  and  I  believe  it's  nothing  in  the  world  but " 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich,"  interrupted  the  paternal  head,  "  I 
was  speaking  ! " 

Mrs.  G.,  with  alacrity  :   "I  hear  you,  Squire  Greenwich." 

The  paternal  head  nodded  approvingly,  and  turned  to 
Etty.  "  Daughter,  when  that  you  requested  permission  to 
visit  your  cousins,  it  would  have  been  your  desire  to  go 
this  forenoon  ;  but,  upon  hearing  the  paternal  decision,  you 
maintained  a  respectful  silence,  as  was  befitting.  Your 
dutiful  behavior  merits  indulgence  ;  and,  in  consideration 
of  your  application  to  your  books,  I  have  weighed  the 
matter,  and  resolved  to  reward  you  with  a  day's  recrea 
tion." 

Etty,  tremulously  :   "  Thank  you,  father." 

"  If  Robert  has  nothing  to  do  "    —  began  the  mother. 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich,"  said  the  paternal  head,  with  severe 


288  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

deliberation,  "  if  it  is  your  design  to  usurp  the  conversa 
tion,  I  will  hold  my  peace." 

"Oh,  by  no  means  !  Go  on,  Squire  Greenwich  !  I  was 
only  going  to  make  the  remark  —  never  mind  !  " 

"  Son  Robert,"  then  said  the  Squire,  "  you  will  oblige 
me  by  carrying  your  sister  over  to  your  cousins'  in  the 
cutter." 

"If  my  sister  will  accept  my  escort,"  replied  Robert, 
bowing  deferentially,  "  nothing  will  afford  me  greater 
pleasure." 

Etty  dared  not  raise  her  eyes.     "  I  can  walk  as  well  "  — 

"  Daughter,  since  the  paternal  head  has  decided,  is  it 
fitting  that  you  should  make  remarks  ?  " 

Poor  Etty  could  not  say  one  word.  Nothing  was  left  her 
but  to  await  Robert's  motions,  and  trust  to  some  kind 
chance,  for  which  she  tremblingly  prayed,  to  favor  her 
escape.  It  was  an  hour  before  he  was  ready  to  accompany 
her.  The  snow  was  thawing  fast,  and  he  drove  very 
slowly.  Arrived  in  sight  of  their  cousins',  she  besought 
him  to  go  no  farther,  but  to  set  her  down,  and  leave  her 
to  walk  the  remaining  distance. 

"  Bless  your  dear  heart !  "  he  said  sarcastically,  "  how 
extremely  anxious  you  are  to  get  rid  of  me  this  morning ! " 

"  I  make  you  so  much  trouble  " 

"  Trouble  ?  On  the  contrary,  in  the  fond  hope  of  giving 
you  pleasure,"  with  a  vein  of  mockery  in  his  tones, 
"  I  had  concluded  to  make  a  visit  with  you,  and  have  a 
game  of  chess  with  Charley's  wife  after  dinner." 

Etty  hoped  he  did  but  jest ;  but  when  he  ordered  his 
horse  to  the  stable,  and,  entering  the  house  with  her,  de 
clared  gayly  that  he  had  come  over  to  read  Tom  Moore, 
and  to  beat  his  fair  cousin  at  a  game  of  chess,  the  child's 
heart  sank,  and  she  almost  cried  out  with  despair,  as  she 
thought  of  Charlotte. 


FLIGHT  289 


XXXII 

FLIGHT 

RECOVERING  from  the  shock  of  Edward's  revelation  and 
Mr.  Dunbury's  explosion  of  wrath,  Charlotte  gave  the  in 
valid's  outreached  hand  a  quick  pressure,  and  hurriedly 
withdrew  to  her  chamber. 

"  The  gentleman's  victuals  is  ready,"  said  Bridget  at  the 
door. 

"  Truth  is  eternal ;  but  cooking  is  a  necessary  evil ;  " 
and  Edward  arose  with  alacrity.  "  When  the  state  of  in 
nocence  is  reached,  men  will  winter  upon  acorns  and  dried 
snails.  Meanwhile  greatness  must  crunch  !  Lead  the  way, 
Elephant' s-foot  !  If  I  fast  too  long,  the  hungry  tiger 
haunts  me ;  but  after  the  lunch,  Solon  will  shine  out." 
He  bowed,  and  followed  Bridget. 

The  invalid  lay,  pallid,  and  sighing  at  long  intervals, 
upon  the  lounge. 

"  You,  then,"  burst  forth  her  husband,  "  you  have  en 
couraged  the  imposition,  you  have  helped  to  make  me  a 
dupe,  you  have  countenanced  your  son's  folly  ! " 

"  Oh,  sir,"  cried  the  invalid,  rising  slowly  upon  her  arm, 
and  answering  his  furious  look  with  a  sad  and  earnest 
glance,  "  it  was  in  fear  of  a  worse  folly,  of  which  you  are 
not  ignorant,  that  I  consented  to  the  marriage.  Look  at 
Edward  !  -  then  think  of  Hector,  who  inherits  the  same 
blood,  the  same  dangerous  temperament,  from  our  ances 
tors  !  Oh,  what  is  family  pride,  compared  with  the  welfare 
of  a  heart  and  mind  like  his  ?  And  think  of  Charlotte  ! 
consider  how  tender  and  lovable  and  true  she  is ;  and 


290  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

that  Hector's  feelings,  with  all  their  depth  and  intensity, 
have  centred  in  her  j  then,  for  his  sake,  if  not  for  her  sake, 
be  merciful !  " 

"  What  does  talk  amount  to  ?  Go  on  till  doomsday  ; 
make  Hector  a  saint,  make  Charlotte  an  angel,  make  me  a 
brute  !  then  show  one  tangible  excuse,  —  the  shadow  of 
reason,  —  why  I  should  have  been  duped  !  " 

"  Oh,  would  I  could  explain  !  But  before  Hector  went  to 
bring  Charlotte  back,  when  we  both  longed  to  tell  you 
their  history  up  to  that  hour,  he  could  not  approach  you  — 
I  could  not ! " 

"  Was  I  so  terrible  a  monster  ?  " 

"  You  force  me  to  say  what  I  would  leave  unsaid ! 
When  you  are  yourself,  you  are  to  me  a  husband ;  to  him,  a 
father.  But  there  are  times  when  you  are  not  yourself,  as 
you  know ! " 

The  quiet  tone  in  which  the  invalid  uttered  the  notori 
ous  truth  of  her  husband's  inebriety  for  a  moment  stag 
gered  him,  and  left  him  quivering  with  inarticulate  rage. 

"No  one  wished  to  deceive  you;  but,  considering  your 
state,  we  deemed  it  advisable  to  wait  until  Charlotte's 
affairs  were  settled.  But  of  this  I  cannot  speak ;  you 
would  not  hear  me,  you  would  not  understand ;  and  I  must 
leave  the  rest  to  Hector,  on  his  return.  Would  he  were 
here  to-day  ! " 

"  So  say  I ! "  and  he  stamped  the  floor  with  his  infuriate 
heel. 

"  You  forget,"  said  Mrs.  Dunbury,  "  that  he  is  of  an  age 
to  act  for  himself." 

"  And  let  him  !  Had  he  chosen  a  n egress  or  a  squaw,  he 
might  have  married  in  spite  of  me.  But  when  he  thinks  to 
harbor  his  baggage  under  my  roof  —  he  shall  see  !  " 

"  He  will  be  quite  ready,  sir,  to  remove  his  wife  to  an 
other  and  pleasanter  home,  let  me  assure  you  ;  and,  no 
doubt,  Charlotte  will  be  as  ready  to  go.  Why  did  they 
come  back  here  at  all  ?  Was  it  not  for  my  sake,  and  for 


FLIGHT  291 

your  sake  ?  because  you  needed  him,  and  I  needed  both  ? 
Had  they  acted  only  for  themselves,  your  house  would 
never  have  been  insulted  by  their  presence,  as  you  com 
plain  !  Young,  strong,  courageous,  they  can  spare  us  very 
well ;  it  remains  to  be  seen  how  well  we  can  spare  them." 

"  It's  Miss  Charlotte  I'd  be  rindin',"  said  Bridget  at  the 
door.  "There's  a  visitor  for  her,"  scratching  her  elbow, 
and  glancing  about  the  room.  Having  seized  the  oppor 
tunity  to  look  in  upon  an  interesting  family  scene,  she  was 
in  no  hurry  to  retire.  Mr.  Dunbury  breathed  hard. 

"  A  visitor  ?  "  said  the  invalid. 

Bridget  scratched  the  other  elbow,  grinning  with  con 
scious  impertinence.  "  Yes'm  —  it's  the  little  janus  —  what 
ye  cahl  her  —  Mr.  Robert's  sister." 

"  Etty  !  who  is  with  her  ?  " 

"It's  nobody  at  ahl  wid  her,  but  her  own  silf  jist.  It's 
alone  an'  a-cryin'  she  is  ;  an'  her  feet's  as  soppin'  wet  as 
iver  they  can  be,  wid  the  thaliin'  snow.  I've  got  her  by 
the  stove,  an'  the  quail-  gintleman's  tellin'  her  the  crackin'- 
est  stories  !  But  she's  ahl  in  the  fidgets  to  see  Miss  Char 
lotte  ;  an'  she'll  not  be  thinkin'  of  her  soakin'  feet,  nor 
nothin'  at  ahl,  a  bit ! " 

Etty's  large  forehead  and  pale  face  emerged  from  the 
eclipse  of  Bridget's  shoulder.  Mrs.  Dunbury  called  her, 
and  she  came  eagerly  into  the  room.  "  I  want  to  see  Miss 
Woods  !  Is  she  in  her  chamber  ?  Can  I  go  and  find 
her  ?  " 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear  child,  and  Bridget  will  speak  to  her 
for  you.  How  wet  your  dress  is  !  " 

"  Yes  — •  and  I  must  go  right  back  !  ''  Etty  began  to  cry. 
"  I  wouldn't  care,  but  I  don't  know  what  my  mother  will 
say !  I  was  at  my  cousins'  —  I  had  something  to  tell  Miss 
Woods  —  Oh.  if  you  will  let  me  go  and  find  her  !  I  know 
her  room  !  " 

The  invalid  consented,  and  the  child  hastened  to  climb 
the  chamber  stairs,  and  knock  with  her  trembling  hand  at 


292  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Charlotte's  door.  Then,  having  thrust  Bridget  from  the 
room,  Mr.  Dunbury  stood  fuming  before  the  invalid's 
lounge. 

"  I'll  know  the  rest !  Who  are  my  son's  connections  ? 
Who  is  this  adventuress  ?  Is  she  so  much  worse  than  a 
beggar,  that  you  dare  not  speak  ?  Is  she  some  creature 
who  has  first  brought  shame  upon  her  own  family  then 
upon  mine  ?  Has  Hector  gone  to  appease  the  anger  of  an 
outraged  parent,  or  the  vengeance  of  a  dishonored  hus 
band  ?  Has  the  name  of  Dunbury  come  to  this  ?  " 

"It  is  well  for  you,  sir,  to  speak  of  the  name  of  Dun- 
bury  !  —  you,  who  have  done  so  much  for  it ! " 

The  words  pierced  and  stung.  The  proud  Englishman 
writhed  a  moment,  then  burst  forth  with  redoubled  fury. 
In  the  very  hurricane  of  his  speech,  the  door  was  again 
opened.  Charlotte  entered.  She  was  very  pale,  her  lips 
were  colorless,  her  eyes  looked  wild  and  strange.  She  had 
on  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  as  if  for  a  journey. 

"  Charlotte  ! "  the  invalid  cried  out. 

"  Will  you  let  Cornelius  carry  me  over  Wild  Biver  in  the 
sleigh  ?  " 

"  My  child  !  where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I  could  walk,"  said  Charlotte,  —  "  but  there  is  water 
around  the  bridge ;  beyond  that,  I  shall  need  no  assist 
ance." 

The  invalid  saw  Etty's  frightened  face  behind  the  door. 
Something  like  the  truth  flashed  upon  her.  She  glanced 
despairingly  from  Charlotte  to  her  husband. 

"  Cornelius  can  go  —  can  he  not  —  to  the  river  "- 

"  To  the  river  —  to  the  end  of  creation  ! " 

Charlotte  spoke  a  hasty  word  of  thanks,  which  died  in 
her  throat,  and  hurried  from  the  room.  Mrs.  Dunbury  fol 
lowed  to  the  hall.  A  few  incoherent  and  terrified  words 
passed  between  them ;  and  Charlotte,  bursting  from  the 
other's  trembling  embrace,  went  swiftly  from  the  house. 
Bridget  was  calling  Corny,  but  no  Corny  appeared. 


FLIGHT  293 

"  0  Bridget,  I  cannot  wait !  —  I  will  walk  !  " 

"  He's  gahn  ahf  wid  the  quair  gintleman,"  scolded 
Bridget.  "  But  I  can  be  tacklin'  the  lioss  for  ye,  —  if 
that's  ahl,  —  an'  dhrive  ye  ahf,  into  the  bargain." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Charlotte,  "  if  you  will !  " 

"  Let  me  help  ! "  cried  Etty. 

"  No,  child  !  —  stay  with  Mrs.  Dunbury.  And  may  God 
bless  you,  my  dear,  dear  Etty  !  " 

Bridget  preceded  Charlotte  to  the  barn.  This  was  a 
species  of  stable  and  wagon-house  combined,  with  folding 
doors  on  the  side  of  the  street,  and  with  light  and  space 
within  to  harness  a  team. 

"  Wat  ii'ise  was  that  ?  "  asked  Bridget,  standing  agape 
at  the  entrance  of  the  smaller  door. 

"  Bridget,"  said  Charlotte,  with  singular  earnestness,  "  I 
believe  you  love  me  !  " 

"  Ye  may  well  say  that  same,  Miss  Charlotte  !  Ye's  the 
very  fust  Yankee  woman  iver  I  " 

"  Good  Bridget !  I  knew  it  was  so  !  And  now  that  I 
have  only  to  depend  on  you,  you  will  —  you  will  help  me, 
I  am  sure  !  " 

Bridget  pledged  herself  with  true  Hibernian  enthusiasm. 
"  But  what  shall  I  be  afther  doin'  for  a  beginnin'  ?  " 

"  Get  out  the  horse  !     Do  not  waste  a  minute  !  " 

"  Howly  Mither !  there's  that  n'ise  again  !  It's  some 
body  that's  been  murthered  !  "  It  was  a  muffled  cry,  that 
appeared  to  proceed  from  the  direction  of  the  granary. 

"  It  is  Cornelius,"  said  Charlotte. 

"The  owl,"  cried  Bridget;  "he's  been  lockin'  himself 
up,  wid  the  kay  outside  ! " 

"  Open  for  him  !     Oh,  be  quick  !  " 

"  But  what  if  it  shouldn't  be  Carny  ?  What  if  he's  only 
purtendin'  to  be  there,  an'  it's  a  robber  afther  ahl  ? 
'Twould  be  jist  one  o'  Caruy's  thricks  ! " 

The  cries  increased.  Corny  began  to  kick  and  pound. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  concerning  his  identity.  Still, 


294  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Bridget  was  cautious,  and  Charlotte  unlocked  the  door. 
Corny  came  out,  rubbing  his  eyes,  and  winking  at  the 
light. 

"  Ye're  a  pooty  feller,  to  be  alluz  lockin'  yerself  up  when 
ye're  wanted  !  "  exclaimed  the  indignant  Bridget.  "  Coom 
an'  be  afther  helpin'  wid  the  harness." 

"  I  didn't  lock  myself  up  !  I  went  in  arter  some  oats  for 
ol'  Maj.,  when  that  confounded  chap  that  broke  the  saw 
come  an'  shet  the  door  onto  me  an'  locked  me  in  !  I'd  like 
to  find  him  once  —  arter  I  git  the  oats  !  " 

Charlotte  entreated  Corny  to  leave  the  oats,  and  assist 
in  putting  the  horse  before  the  cutter. 

"  Which  hoss  did  Mist'  Dunbury  tell  ye  to  take  ?  " 

"  Ould  Maj.,  av  coorse,"  replied  Bridget.  "D'  ye  think 
I'd  be  drivin'  the  brute  that  rips  up  the  wagons  ?  " 

"  You !  a  good  'eal  you'll  drive  !  B'sides,  Maj.  hadn't 
oughter  go  till  he's  had  his  oats." 

The  delay  was  torturing  to  Charlotte.  The  close  air  of 
the  barn  stifled  her ;  all  things  grew  dark  around  her,  and 
she  groped  her  way  to  the  door.  Supporting  herself  by  the 
beam,  she  breathed  the  open  air,  and  felt  the  cold  dashing 
of  the  eaves  upon  her  neck.  A  sound  of  hoofs  and  runners 
startled  her.  Three  men  in  a  sleigh  were  driving  into  the 
yard.  They  stopped;  two  of  them  jumped  out,  and  en 
tered  the  house  by  the  front  door;  the  third  remained 
without. 

One  of  those  men  Charlotte  knew.  Cold  drops  started 
upon  her  brow,  as  she  shrank  back  into  the  obscurity  of 
the  barn.  Just  then  there  was  a  shout  of  laughter  ;  and 
some  person,  who  had  lain  concealed  in  the  cutter,  leaped 
up,  shaking  the  buffalo-robes  with  frantic  glee.  Bridget 
ran  shrieking  to  the  door. 

"  Edward  —  Bridget "   -  gasped  Charlotte. 

"  Faix,"  cried  Bridget,  "  I  was  spreadin'  up  the  skin  in 
the  cutter,  when  out  he  jumps  from  under  it,  like  the  divil 
he  is  intirely  1 " 


FLIGHT  295 

«  Oh,  be  still  !  "  said  Charlotte,  "  or  I  am  lost !  " 

"Ha !  conspirators  !  "  ejaculated  Edward,  bounding  from 
the  sleigh.  "  There  shall  be  one  capital  crime ;  that  of 
high  treason.  The  punishment  shall  be  strangling,  and 
here  are  the  clutches  ! "  —  showing  his  hooked  ringers,  as 
he  sprang  towards  the  door.  "  Let  the  tiger  tickle  them  ! " 

Charlotte  stopped  him  ;  she  clung  to  him ;  she  breathed 
out  her  fears  ;  she  implored  him  to  hear  her,  to  aid  her. 
He  struck  his  forehead  with  his  hand. 

"  Stratagem  !  Your  majesty  shall  be  saved !  After 
that,  the  execution.  Leave  all  to  the  prime  minister !  " 

"  But  —  Edward  —  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

His  reply  was  clear  and  rapid.  It  showed  a  sharp, 
shrewd  wit,  which  gleamed  like  a  lightning-flash  on  Char 
lotte's  bewilderment.  His  plan  was  a  wild  one ;  but  in  it 
lay  her  only  hope  ;  and,  adopting  it  desperately,  she  en 
treated  Corny  and  Bridget  to  obey  and  assist  him. 

"  Darned  if  I  know  the  fust  thing  "    -  began  Corny. 

"Be  valiant,"  cried  Edward,  "and  it  shall  be  revealed. 
Go  to  the  gate,  and  the  instant  we  pass,  shut  it  after  !  — 
Lady  Bridget,  this  way  !  " 

Etty  glided  into  the  barn.  "  They  have  come  !  "  she 
muttered,  — "  the  same  man  who  was  in  the  room  last 
night,  —  I  knew  his  voice  !  Oh,  make  haste  !  " 

The  traces  were  hooked ;  Corny  was  at  the  gate ;  the 
large  door  was  thrown  open  ;  then  Edward,  leaping  into 
the  sleigh  by  his  companion's  side,  threw  the  buffalo-robe 
over  her,  and  drove  headlong  out  of  the  barn.  Shaking 
the  reins,  and  lashing  the  horse  with  the  whip,  he  passed 
the  sleigh  in  the  yard,  went  through  the  gate,  grazing  the 
post  with  the  runner,  and  plied,  with  furious  speed,  to 
wards  Wild  River. 

The  man  left  in  charge  of  the  sleigh  shouted  the  alarm, 
and  sprang  to  his  seat.  Fortunately  the  span  was  headed 
the  wrong  way,  and  before  he  could  turn  their  faces  towards 
the  road,  Corny  had  had  time,  in  his  moderate  manner,  to 


296  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

close  the  gate.  The  obstacle  brought  the  sleigh  to  a  sudden 
halt. 

"  Open,  there  !  "  cried  the  driver. 

"  Who  said  so  ?  "  muttered  Corny. 

"  Open  the  gate !  "  thundered  the  man,  shaking  his  whip. 

"  Tell  me  agin,  then  mabby  I'll  hear,"  said  Corny,  in  an 
undertone,  taking  care  to  get  beyond  reach  of  the  lash.  The 
man  jumped  out,  making  a  cut  at  Corney  as  he  passed. 
The  whistling  of  the  whip  started  the  horses ;  and  spring 
ing  forward,  they  ran  the  neap  against  the  gate.  "  So 
much  for  snappin'  yer  whip ! "  said  Corny,  with  a  grin. 
"  You'll  have  to  back  up  now,  or  you  can't  git  the  gate 
open." 

"  Smash  through  it !  "  exclaimed  a  terrible  voice,  so  near 
Corny's  ear,  that  he  jumped  as  if  he  had  been  struck. 
It  was  one  of  the  men  from  the  house.  He  leaped  into  the 
sleigh,  and  gathered  up  the  reins.  "  Cl'ar  the  track,  Jones  ! 
I'll  go  over  that  gate  as  if  it  was  shingles  ! " 

"  Hold  on,  Dicks'n  ! "  cried  the  other ;  "  'twill  be  cheaper 
to  open  it ! " 

"  Out  o'  the  way ! "  shouted  Dickson.  "  No  time  for 
fool'n' !  Give  us  the  whip  —  jump  on  !  " 

He  struck  the  horses  smartly.  With  a  bound  they 
brought  the  neap  once  more  against  the  gate.  The  frame 
splintered,  and  they  went  over  with  a  crash.  The  off -horse, 
however,  unused  to  such  business,  shied  in  passing,  and 
forced  the  point  of  the  runner  against  the  post.  Another 
dead  halt ;  the  men  cursing,  the  horses  trembling  and  crin 
ging,  Corny  grinning  at  a  safe  distance.  As  it  was  out  of 
the  question  to  think  of  serving  the  gate-post  as  they  had 
served  the  gate,  the  men  found  themselves  obliged  to  follow 
Corny's  original  advice,  and  "  back  up."  This  was  no  easy 
matter,  with  the  horses'  legs  entangled  in  the  wreck. 
They  kicked  and  flung,  threatening  to  tear  both  harness 
and  sleigh  to  pieces.  But  at  last  the  fragments  of  the  gate 
were  either  trodden  down  or  thrown  out  of  the  way ;  the 


FLIGHT  297 

sleigh  was  cleared ;  and  Dickson  and  his  companion,  jump 
ing  aboard,  described  a  swift  circle  into  the  road,  making 
the  watery  snow  fly  from  the  runners  as  they  swept  around, 
and  dashed  away  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives. 

Old  Maj.  was  no  racer;  but  Edward  exerted  himself  so 
well  to  develop  his  latent  speed,  that  the  cutter  had  already 
passed  from  sight  over  the  hill.  Arrived  at  the  summit, 
Dickson  and  his  companion  beheld  the  fugitives  splashing 
through  the  sluggish  currents  of  water  that  crept  around 
the  bridge  of  Wild  River  ;  and  a  minute  later  old  Maj.  was 
sejen  making  vigorous  leaps  up  the  steep  road  that  led  into 
the  woods.  By  the  time  the  pursuers  had  reached  the 
bridge,  Edward  and  his  companion  had  once  more  disap 
peared. 

Through  the  water  and  slush  dashed  horses  and  sleigh. 
Dickson  and  his  friend  were  bespattered  from  head  to  foot. 
Often  the  horses  slumped  through  the  hard-packed  bed  of 
the  road,  and  threw  up  heavy  clods,  endangering  their  own 
limbs,  and  the  eyes  and  features  of  the  men.  But  Dickson 
held  the  reins  and  wielded  the  whip;  Dickson  cared  neither 
for  the  horses,  his  friend,  nor  himself ;  his  only  thought 
was  to  overtake  the  fugitives,  at  every  risk. 

Old  Maj.  was  no  match  for  the  strong,  spirited  span;  and 
by  the  time  the  pursuers  came  again  in  sight,  he  was  begin 
ning  to  flag,  notwithstanding  Edward's  efforts  to  keep  up 
his  courage  with  the  whip.  Escape  by  direct  means  be 
came  hopeless.  As  a  last  resort,  the  fugitives  turned  aside 
into  a  rough  lumber-track,  that  wound  through  the  woods. 
But  a  worse  route  could  scarce  have  been  chosen.  Mount 
ing  a  snow-covered  acclivity,  they  reached  an  impassable 
chasm,  filled  with  huge,  heaped,  massive  rocks,  around  the 
icy  bed  of  Wild  River.  Seeing  retreat  thus  cut  off,  Edward 
abandoned  the  track,  and  struck  out  among  the  trees  on 
the  bank.  But  the  snow  still  lay  heavy  in  those  gloom v 
regions.  The  runners  cut  deep  ;  it  was  no  easy  matter  to 
avoid  the  roots  and  trunks,  and  little  progress  had  been 


298  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

made,  when  the  horses  of  the  pursuers  came  bounding  up 
the  slope,  and,  wheeling  among  the  trees,  dashed  along 
side  the  cutter,  just  at  a  moment  when  it  was  arrested  by 
the  bristling  tops  of  a  fallen  tree.  Dickson  jumped  into 
the  snow  and  scrambled  to  seize  his  prey. 

"Destiny  in  a  tree-top  !"  ejaculated  Edward.  "  Let  the 
vultures  rage  !  I  put  my  faith  in  the  humming-bird.  Come 
on!" 

"  We'll  come  on  fast  enough  !  "  cried  Jones.  "  And  jest 
you  keep  quiet,  or  you'll  git  pitch-bowled  down  them  'ar 
rocks,  like  a  cobble-stone  !  Make  sure  of  her,  Dicks'n  !  " 

"  Wai,  I  reck'n  ! "  muttered  Dickson,  with  gloating  de 
liberation.  "When  I  once  get  my  eyes  on  a  gal,  it's  as 
good  as  a  bear-hug  !  Here  ye  be,  my  perty  !  " 

"  Hang  on  !  "  exclaimed  Jones.  "  If  she'd  been  spunky 
as  some  gals  be,  she'd  make  a  desprit  push  over  them  'ar 
rocks  ;  it's  what  I  was  'fraid  of.  I'm  much  obleeged  to 
her,  for  my  part." 

"  Good  many  '11  be  obleeged  !  "  said  Dickson,  with  brutal 
satisfaction.  "  One  live  gal  is  worth  a  gang  of  dead  ones. 
Oh,  you're  safe  ;  don't  squirm  ;  'tain't  no  use  !  Show  us 
yer  face,  my  honey  !  " 

He  pulled  down  the  buffalo-robe,  and  pulled  up  the 
bonnet,  then  attempted  to  lift  the  head  of  his  struggling 
captive. 

"  The  Wise  Men  triumphant ! "  exclaimed  Edward. 
"  The  dove  was  a  jackdaw,  and  the  cat  pounced  upon 
her  own  paws  !  Look  to  the  feathers  !  " 

"  What's  the  row  ?  "  cried  Jones,  rushing  to  the  spot. 

Edward  danced,  and,  flinging  his  hat  into  a  tree,  made 
the  woods  ring  with  his  maniacal  laugh. 

Dickson  dropped  the  bonnet ;  loosed  his  hold  of  the 
buffalo-robe  ;  stood,  stared,  —  his  face  a  picture  of  mingled 
stupefaction  and  fury,  —  as,  struggling  through  a  large 
quantity  of  tangled  hair,  giggling  and  gasping,  appeared 
the  round,  red,  ludicrous  features  of  —  BRIDGET  ! 


HOUSELESS  299 


XXXIII 

HOUSELESS 

"  THE  law,  Mrs.  Dnnbury/'  said  Oliver  Dole,  with  the 
grimace  of  authority,  "  the  LAW  must  be  put  in  force.  It 
is  a  painful  duty  we  have  to  perform  —  but,  then,  you 
know,  the  LAW  !  " 

He  was  a  gaunt,  bony  individual,  with  a  hooked  nose 
and  a  massive  nether  jaw.  He  was  the  third  person  of 
Dickson's  party,  being  an  officer  resident  in  the  county 
who  had  been  selected  to  give  legality  to  the  enterprise. 
A  fitter  choice  could  hardly  have  been  made.  The  man 
was  sunk  in  the  officer;  the  waters  of  human  feeling  were 
in  him  congealed  into  the  fixed,  unswerving  ice  of  public 
conscience.  But  Mrs.  Dunbury  was  a  mere  woman.  She 
fondly  believed  that  the  elements  of  love  and  mercy  en 
throned  in  the  heart  were  a  law  above  all  laws.  When 
Dickson  and  his  companion  rushed  in  pursuit  of  the  cutter, 
she  clung  to  Oliver  Dole.  With  clasped  hands,  with  sobs 
and  tears,  she  pleaded  for  Charlotte. 

"  She  is  a  being  like  one  of  us  !  She  has  all  human  attri 
butes  and  feelings  !  She  is  a  woman  —  a  wife  —  my  son's 
wife  ;  my  own  beloved  child !  Do  not  subject  her  to  the 
ignominy,  the  horror,  the  death,  of  such  an  ordeal.  If 
money  can  satisfy  the  claims  upon  her,  they  shall  be  satis 
fied.  Even  now  my  son  has  gone  to  treat  for  her.  Spare 
her,  spare  him,  spare  us,  this  terrible  exposure  !  You  are 
a  man,  a  citizen ;  it  is  in  your  power  to  save  her  ! " 

"  Mrs.  Dunbury,"  responded  Oliver  Dole,  "  nothing  is  in 
my  power  that  is  not  the  law.  I  cannot  be  detained  from 


800  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

my  duty  ;  and  I  charge  you,  Mrs.  Dunbury  not  to  resist 
the  law !  " 

Still  she  clung  to  him.  She  seemed  endowed  with  a 
strength  above  her  own.  She  would  not  loose  her  hold. 

"  Mr.  Dunbury  !  "  cried  Oliver  Dole,  "  I  appeal  to  you  !  " 

Mr.  Dunbury  stood  by,  a  picture  of  apoplectic  rage. 
His  face  was  purple,  his  eyes  blood-shot,  the  muscles  of  his 
mouth  and  throat  moved  convulsively.  He  heeded  the 
officer  no  more  than  the  eaves  that  dripped.  The  latter 
wrenched  away  the  invalid's  hands,  and  she  fell  upon  the 
floor. 

"  Mr.  Dunbury,"  then  said  Oliver  Dole,  "  I  anticipated 
nothing  of  this  ;  and  now  I  call  upon  you  for  support  in 
the  performance  of  my  duty.  It  the  girl  escapes,  this 
resistance  may  cost  you  dear.  If  you  have  a  horse  in  your 
stable,  I  will  take  it,  and  follow  on." 

No  word  from  Mr.  Dunbury ;  but,  with  a  look  of  strangu 
lation, —  clutching  his  breast  as  if  to  free  his.  lungs,  — 
he  strode  over  his  wife's  prostrate  form,  and  followed  the 
officer  from  the  room.  At  the  entrance  to  the  barn  stood 
Etty,  white  and  trembling.  It  was  well  the  stanch  Oliver 
did  not  observe  the  look  she  gave  him,  as  he  stepped  into 
the  stall  of  the  remaining  horse.  A  gleam  of  hope  and 
joy  broke  through  the  pale  anxiety  of  her  features  when 
she  saw  him  untie  the  halter,  and  lead  the  animal  out.  To 
slip  on  a  bridle,  and  leap  upon  the  horse's  back,  was  the 
work  of  a  moment  for  Oliver  Dole ;  and  an  instant  after, 
riding  over  the  broken  gate,  he  joined  in  the  ignoble  chase. 
Etty  clasped  her  hands,  and  ran  to  Mr.  Dunbury. 

"  Here  she  is  !  "  she  uttered  hurriedly.  "  It  was  Bridget 
that  went  in  the  cutter  !  Be  quick,  and  hide  her  some 
where  ! " 

As  she  spoke,  from  beneath  the  manger  crept  a  pitiful 
human  figure,  slender,  bent,  and  trembling  with  excessive 
fear.  It  was  Charlotte.  She  tottered  forward,  and  fell 
down  at  Mr.  Dunbury's  feet.  As  she  covered  her  face 


HOUSELESS  301 

from  his  sight,  one  might  have  seen  that  her  hand  was 
wounded  and  bloody.  Oliver  Dole  had  crushed  it  with  his 
iron  heel,  in  leading  the  horse  from  the  stall.  It  was 
doubtful  if  she  had  felt  the  pain  at  the  time.  Certainly 
she  was  insensible  to  it  now ;  but  Etty  cried  out  with  pity 
at  the  sight. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dunbury  !  "  said  the  child,  "  what  can  she  do  ? 
Don't  let  them  take  her  away  !  " 

]STo  word  yet  from  Mr.  Dunbury  ;  none  from  Charlotte  ; 
but  shrinkingly  she  knelt  there,  as  if  it  were  his  wrath 
alone  she  feared,  and  only  his  forgiveness  she  implored. 

"  0  Charlotte  !  "  cried  Etty,  trying  to  lift  her  up. 
"  There  is  some  place  where  they  can't  find  you  !  Come  ! 
Oh,  sir,  why  do  you  let  her  be  here  ?  " 

Mr.  Dunbury  raised  his  remorseless  arm.  "Begone!" 
—  his  words  hissed  with  fury,  —  "  lose  yourself,  save 
yourself,  I  care  not,  —  but  BEGONE  !  " 

Charlotte  arose  and  fled. 

There  was  a  cow-path  trodden  through  the  snow,  leading 
across  the  meadows,  over  the  bridge  and  along  the  banks 
of  the  stream.  This  path  Charlotte  took  ;  passing  in  her 
flight  scenes  which  she  had  first  visited  in  company  with 
Hector,  and  which  had  become  linked  in  her  memory  with 
warm  and  dear  associations.  But  now  how  changed,  how 
cold,  how  desolate,  were  they  all !  The  snow  lay  heavy  and 
deep  on  the  interval ;  the  willows  were  naked  and  dark  ; 
the  stream  was  blocked  with  ice.  Beyond  frowned  the 
inhospitable  forest  on  the  mountain  side.  The  heavens 
above  were  leaden,  with  grayish  streaks ;  and  now  the 
slow,  dull,  wintry  rain  began  to  fall. 

Beyond  the  bridge,  the  track  threw  out  branches  in 
several  directions  ;  for  here,  all  winter  long,  Mr.  Dunbury 's 
cattle  and  sheep  had  been  foddered  from  the  stacks  in 
the  valley.  But  the  main  path  led  along  the  banks  of  the 
creek ;  this  Charlotte  chose,  perhaps  because  among  the 
willows  her  flight  would  be  concealed,  or  it  may  be  that 


302  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

she  cherished  some  half-formed  design  of  reaching  Mr. 
Jackwood's  house. 

But  the  way  was  rude  and  difficult  for  her  unaccustomed 
feet.  Since  the  thaw,  the  track  had  been  broken  through 
by  sharp  hoofs  ;  water  had  settled  in  the  low  places ;  and 
often,  slipping  upon  the  icy  cakes,  she  fell,  hurting  her 
naked  hands,  bruising  her  limbs,  and  saturating  her  gar 
ments  in  the  pools.  Then,  palpitating  and  breathless  from 
the  shock,  she  would  pause,  and  glance  up  and  down  the 
wide  white  valley  with  fearful  looks,  as  if  expecting 
momently  to  see  her  pursuers  appear. 

A  glimpse  she  caught  of  Mr.  Jackwood's  house  in  the 
distance  inspired  her  with  courage  to  keep  on.  She  saw 
the  red-painted  kitchen  dimly  denned  upon  the  field  of 
snow ;  the  trees  and  fences  speckling  the  ground ;  the 
heavy  plume  of  smoke  from  the  chimney,  trailing  low 
across  the  plain ;  and  a  vision  of  hope  and  help  and  rest 
in  that  humble  home  flitted  before  her  mind.  But  the 
path  by  the  willows  now  dwindled  to  a  scarcely  trodden 
track.  At  each  step,  her  feet  sank  down  in  the  soft,  wet 
snow.  Her  efforts  to  proceed  cost  all  her  remaining 
strength.  Only  the  desperate  extremity  in  which  she  was 
sustained  her.  But  hope  and  fear  alike  failed  her  at  last  j 
and  having  climbed  the  tangled  brush  of  a  valley  fence, 
she  fell  powerless  in  the  snow  upon  the  other  side. 

The  gloomy  winter's  day  was  drawing  to  a  close.  The 
shades  of  the  solemn  hills  shut  in  the  plain.  A  dreary 
silence  reigned,  broken  only  by  the  lowing  of  cattle,  and 
the  faint,  sad  bleating  of  sheep  in  the  distance,  the  sighing 
of  the  wind  among  the  willows,  and  the  melancholy  drip 
of  the  rain.  Having  got  a  little  rest,  Charlotte  summoned 
her  energies  for  a  fresh  attempt  to  traverse  the  snowy 
tract.  But  now  formidable  doubts  stood  in  her  way.  She 
had  faith  in  her  old  friends  ;  but  would  Mr.  Jackwood's 
house,  which  had  twice  received  her  in  its  hospitable 
retreat,  be  overlooked  by  her  pursuers  ?  Perhaps  already 


HOUSELESS  303 

they  were  there  before  her ;  and  to  proceed  might  be  to 
fall  at  once  into  their  hands.  In  her  deep  perplexity  she 
crept  under  the  fence,  with  a  wild  thought  of  passing  the 
night  in  that  wretched  place.  But  the  rain  beat  upon  her 
still ;  her  hands  ached  from  contact  with  the  snow ;  and 
her  feet  were  drenched  and  cold. 

The  approach  of  footsteps  startled  her ;  but  she  dared 
not  look  around,  nor  move  ;  she  lay  still  as  death  in  her 
retreat.  The  sounds  drew  near,  and  presently  a  dog 
began  to  bark,  plunging  ^nto  the  snow  close  by  where  she 
lay. 

"  Come  here,  Rove  !  "  cried  an  authoritative  voice. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Abimelech  Jackwood  the  younger. 
The  dog  ran  back,  with  excited  yelps,  and  jumped  upon  his 
arm,  then  rushed  to  the  attack  again,  bristling  up,  and 
barking  furiously  at  the  object  by  the  fence.  Charlotte 
spoke,  "  Rover !  "  Instantly  he  sprang  towards  her,  with 
a  joyous  demonstration  ;  hesitated  half  way,  and  ran  back 
again  to  his  master ;  whisked  about  in  the  snow ;  and 
finally,  having  fulfilled  all  the  requirements  of  canine 
etiquette  on  the  occasion,  leaped  upon  her  lap,  wagging  his 
tail  violently,  caressing  her  with  his  feet,  and  licking  her 
wounded  hand. 

Abimelech  stood  at  a  discreet  distance,  and  cried  to 
Rover  to  come  there.  Charlotte  arose  to  her  feet,  and 
called  his  name. 

"  Hello  !  "  cried  Bim  ;  "  that  you  ?  " 

She  tottered  forward.  The  boy,  not  so  easily  satisfied  as 
the  dog,  showed  a  disposition  to  retire.  But,  in  a  few 
hurried  words,  she  made  him  understand  that  she  was 
no  apparition,  that  it  was  indeed  Charlotte  who  spoke  to 
him,  and  that  he  was  not  to  fear,  but  to  aid  her. 

"  Be  ye  goin'  up  to  the  house  ?  "  asked  the  boy. 

"  Abimelech,  some  men  are  hunting  for  me  !  I  would 
rather  die  than  have  them  find  me  !  And  I  don't  know 
where  to  go  !  " 


304  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  Who  be  they  ?  "  demanded  Bim,  with  forced  courage, 
looking  around.  "  I'll  set  Kover  on  to  'em  !  Here  !  " 

"  Where  is  your  father  ?  " 

"  Up  to  the  house,  I  guess,"  replied  Bim. 

"  Will  you  go  for  him,"  said  Charlotte,  "  and  tell  him  I 
am  here,  and  tell  no  one  else  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'll  go ! "  cried  Bim.  "  But,"  hesitatingly, 
"  hadn't  you  better  go  up  to  the  stack,  and  wait  there  ? 
I'd  ruther  ye  would;  I  come  down  here  to  fodder  the  steers 
and  lambs,  and  father  told  me  not  to  go  and  look  at  my 
mushrat-trap,  'cause  'twas  goin'  to  rain.  It's  righ'  down 
here  ;  an'  if  he  knows  where  I  found  ye,  he'll  s'pect  I  was 
goin'  there." 

Charlotte  accepted  the  boy's  guidance  ;  and  immediately 
around  the  bend  in  the  creek,  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
stack.  It  was  a  low,  gloomy  mass,  in  the  midst  of  a  dark, 
trodden  space,  around  the  edges  of  which  appeared  Abime- 
lech's  steers  and  lambs,  feeding  on  wisps  of  hay  he  had 
scattered  over  the  snow.  The  stack  was  defended  by  a 
fence,  on  one  side  of  which  was  a  temporary  shelter, 
formed  of  rails  and  boards,  thatched  with  straw. 

"  If  you'd  like  to  hide,"  observed  Bim,  "  I  know  a  place 
—  only  I  don't  want  father  to  find  it  out,  for  he  tells  me 
not  to  be  makin'  holes  in  the  stack." 

"  Is  it  here  ?  " 

"  I'll  show  ye ! "  and  Bim,  slipping  a  couple  of  rails  from 
their  place,  crept  through  the  fence,  and  began  to  pull 
away  the  hay  from  the  stack.  A  dark  cavity  was  exposed. 
"  It's  a  den  I  made  for  me  an'  Hove.  Once  I  had  a  notion 
o'  runnin'  away ;  an'  I  was  goin'  to  live  here,  and  have  him 
bring  me  my  victuals.  It's  real  slick  an'  warm  in  there  !  " 

The  opening  was  extremely  narrow,  and  the  cavity  itself 
was  small.  But  it  was  all  Charlotte  wished  for  then.  She 
could  not  have  entered  a  palace  with  more  grateful  emo 
tions. 

"  Shall  I  leave  ye  a  breathin'-place  ?  "  asked  Abimelech, 


HOUSELESS  305 

putting  back  the  hay.  "  Hello  !  what's  that  Rover's 
barkin'  at  ?  " 

He  crept  around  the  stack,  leaving  Charlotte  listening 
breathlessly  in  her  hiding-place.  In  a  moment  he  re 
turned,  and  whispered  hoarsely  in  the  hay,  ••  There's  a 
man  a  comin'  with  a  big  hoss-whip  !  " 

She  heard  him  hastily  smoothing  the  hay  at  the  entrance 
of  her  cell ;  then  all  was  still,  only  the  dog  barked  ;  and  as 
she  strained  her  ear  to  listen,  the  straw  beneath  her  rustled 
with  every  throb  of  her  heart. 

Having  climbed  the  stack,  and  thrown  down  a  quantity 
of  hay  before  the  mouth  of  the  cavity,  Bim  began  to  arrange 
some  boards  in  a  manner  to  shed  rain. 

"  Git  out  !  "  growled  the  man  with  the  whip,  making  a 
cut  at  the  dog. 

"  He  won't  eat  ye,"  cried  Bim.     "  Here,  Rove  !  " 

"  Say,  boy  !  have  ye  seen  anybody  pass  this  way,  with 
in  half  an  hour  or  so  ?  " 

u  Pass  which  way  ?  " 

"  Any  way  —  along  by  the  crick." 

«  What  crick  ?  " 

"  Answer  my  question  !  " 

''  I  hain't  ben  here  half  an  hour,  I  shouldn't  think,"  said 
Bim. 

"  Look  a'  yer  !  "  thundered  Dickson,  "  none  o'  yer  trash 
with  me  !  I  cut  a  boy's  trouse's-legs  right  off  with  this  yer 
black  snake,  t'other  day  !  He  was  a  boy  about  your  size, 
and  his  trouse's  was  stouter  stuff  than  yours,  too,  I  reck'n  ! 
Which  way  did  that  gal  go  ?  " 

"  What  gal  ?  "  said  Bim,  stepping  cautiously  back  upon 
the  stack. 

"  Let  me  reach  you  with  this  lash,  and  I'll  tickle  your 
recollections  !  You'll  look  paler  than  that,  when  I  draw 
about  a  quart  of  blood  out  of  ye  !  I  mean  that  gal  that 
come  along  about  twenty  minutes  ago." 

"  If  there  was  any,"  -  —  Bim  looked  very  candid,  but  very 


306  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

pale,  —  "  she  must  a'  come  along  when  I  was  off  after  my 
traps  ;  or  else  I  should  think  I'd  seen  her." 

"  That  won't  do,  boy  ! "  Dicksoii  cracked  his  whip 
savagely.  "  I'll  give  ye  jest  about  a  minute  V  a  half  to 
think  about  it ;  then,  if  ye  don't  walk  straight  up  to  the 
scratch,  and  spit  out  what  ye  know,  you  may  expect  to 
have  your  clo's  cut  right  off  'm  your  back,  and  your  hide 
with  'm  !  " 

Then  Charlotte  heard  a  sound  as  of  some  one  climbing 
the  stack-yard  fence,  and  a  heavy  body  jumped  down  upon 
the  ground  at  the  very  entrance  to  her  retreat.  There  was 
a  shaking  in  the  hay  which  Bim  had  thrown  before  it ; 
Dickson  was  kicking  it  open  with  his  foot ;  he  trod  it  down 
by  the  stack. 

Bim  looked  anxious,  but  his  wits  did  not  desert  him. 
"  If  ye'll  help  me  with  these  'ere  boards,  I'll  go  up  to  the 
house  with  ye,  an'  see  if  she's  been  by  there." 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  In  that  house,  up  yender." 

"  What's  yer  name  ?  n 

"  Bim  !  " 

"  What's  yer  whole  name  ?  n 

"  Bim'lech !  " 

"  What's  yer  father's  name  ?  " 

"  His  name's  Bim'lech  too  !  " 

«  Bim'lech  what  ?  " 

"  Bim'lech  Jackwood,  of  course  !  " 

"  Jackwood,  hey  ?  she  use'  to  live  to  your  house,  didn't 
she? 

"  Yes,  I  guess  not !      Who  used  to  ?  " 

"  We'll  see  ! "  said  Dickson.  Having  during  the  dialogue 
struck  a  match  under  his  coat  and  lighted  a  cigar,  he  inserted 
the  latter  between  his  teeth,  and,  once  more  measuring  out 
his  whip,  cracked  it  at  the  boy's  ears.  "  Time's  up  !  now, 
what  ye  got  to  say  ?  " 

"  If  you're  goin'  to  smoke,"  said  Bim,  from  a  safe  posi- 


HOUSELESS  807 

tion,  "  you  better  git  over  the  fence  ;  you'll  set  the  stack 
afire.  That's  dry  hay  I  jest  throwed  down  there.  Ow  !  " 
as  the  whip-lash  whistled  by  his  face,  "  you  hadn't  better 
hit  me  with  that !  There's  father,  an'  I'm  darned  glad  !  " 

Dickson  changed  his  tactics  ;  perhaps  because  he  found 
threats  of  no  avail ;  perhaps  because  the  boy  had  an  adroit 
way  of  dodging  over  the  stack  beyond  reach  of  his  whip  ; 
or  in  consequence,  it  may  be,  of  misgivings  with  regard  to 
the  parent  Jackwood.  He  therefore  opened  a  parley,  and 
offered  Bim  half  a  dollar  to  tell  him  which  way  Charlotte 
went. 

"  I  guess  so  !  "  said  Bim.  "  You  want  me  to  come  down 
an'  git  it,  then  you'll  ketch  me,  an'  gi'  me  a  lickin' ;  I  know  ! " 
And  he  made  preparations  to  slide  oft'  the  opposite  side,  in 
case  Dickson  attempted  to  climb  the  stack. 

But  Dickson  had  a  more  important  matter  to  attend  to. 
Either  the  match  he  had  thrown  do.wn  after  lighting  his 
cigar,  or  cinders  falling  in  the  hay,  had  set  fire  to  the  heap. 
The  flame,  shooting  up  with  a  sudden  crackling  and  glare, 
was  the  first  warning  he  received  of  the  danger.  He  had 
left  the  spot,  and  was  standing  by  the  cattle-shed,  when 
the  blaze  caught  his  eye.  He  rushed  to  extinguish  it, 
stamping  and  trampling,  and  calling  to  the  boy  to  bring 
snow. 

'•  There  ain't  no  fire  !  "  cried  Bim,  who  thought  it  a  ruse 
to  bring  him  down. 

"  By  —  — !"  said  Dickson,  "you'll  find  out  whether 
there's  a  fire  !  " 

Already  Charlotte  had  smelt  the  burning  straw.  Then, 
through  chinks  in  the  opening  of  her  cell,  she  caught  fear 
ful  glimpses  of  the  struggling  flame  and  smoke.  She  heard 
the  alarm,  the  oaths,  the  trample  of  feet. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  cry  out,  and  rush  from  her  re 
treat.  But  the  certainty  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  Dick- 
son  restrained  her.  Death  was  nothing  ;  a  moment  since, 
she  would  have  risked  a  hundred  deaths  sooner  than  be 


308  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

taken ;  but  to  be  burned,  to  perish  in  a  slowly  consuming 
mass ;  to  die  by  torment  in  a  tomb  of  fire !  the  thought 
was  maddening ;  it  filled  her  with  an  insensate  fear,  that 
caused  her  for  the  instant  to  forget  all  other  danger.  With 
frantic  hands  she  tore  the  hay  that  blocked  the  opening. 
But  a  volume  of  smoke,  pouring  in  upon  her,  changed  her 
purpose.  She  thrust  back  the  hay,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  was  trampled  and  packed  from  without.  She  heard 
the  simmer  of  snow  upon  the  flames ;  she  thought  the  fire 
was  being  extinguished.  She  hoped,  she  prayed,  that  she 
might  yet  be  preserved. 

Bat  now  the  trampling  feet,  and  snow  packed  down 
upon  the  burning  hay,  drove  the  smoke  into  the  cell.  She 
was  suffocating.  The  torture  almost  forced  her  to  cry  out. 
Oh  that  she  might  have  power  to  endure  yet  a  little  while ! 
She  thought  of  Hector.  For  his  sake  she  conquered  her 
agony.  Writhing  in-  torment,  she  clasped  her  hands  upon 
her  face  to  stifle  her  convulsive  coughing.  Yet  a  little 
while  !  Yet  a  little  while !  Oh,  yet  one  moment  more  ! 

It  could  not  be.  She  fought  with  death  itself.  It  seemed 
that  almost  the  last  struggle,  the  last  mortal  throe,  had 
come.  Still  Hector  filled  her  soul.  She  might  have  en 
dured  and  died ;  but,  no !  for  him  she  would  risk  all 
things  ;  for  him  she  would  suffer  on ;  for  him  she  would 
live  !  Again  she  tore  the  hay  from  the  opening  of  the 
cell.  But  the  act  was  forestalled.  A  hand,  thrust  in,  met 
hers. 

"Keep  still!"  whispered  Bim,  at  the  entrance.  "  Can 
ye  breathe  ?  " 

She  breathed,  she  lived,  she  hoped.  The  fire  was  extin 
guished.  Dickson,  enraged  at  the  delay,  had  departed  in 
haste,  and  the  boy  was  left  alone  to  trample  out  the  smoul 
dering  sparks  with  snow. 

"  Hello,  boy  !  "  suddenly  shouted  Dickson,  turning  back, 
"  fling  me  my  whip  !  " 

There  was  no  service  Bim  would  more  gladly  have  per- 


HOUSELESS  309 

formed.  Anything  rather  than  that  Dickson  should  return 
to  the  stack.  He  looked  for  the  whip,  but  could  not  find 
it.  The  man  had  thrown  it  down  whilst  extinguishing  the 
fire,  and  thought  it  must  have  become  trodden  in  the  hay. 
He  returned  ;  they  looked  for  it  together,  —  Bim  keeping 
at  a  respectful  distance,  and  holding  himself  ready  to  run 
the  instant  the  whip  appeared,  —  Dickson  growling  and 
swearing.  Suddenly  the  end  of  the  lash  was  discovered 
hanging  off  the  cattle-shed,  close  by  the  stack.  Dickson 
seized  it ;  Abimelech  fled  ;  Charlotte,  who  had  listened  all 
the  time  with  a  fluttering  heart,  began  to  breathe  again. 

At  the  moment  there  was  a  movement  at  the  mouth  of 
the  cell.  The  hay  was  opening ;  some  object  forced  its 
way  into  her  retreat.  She  was  shrinking  away  in  terror, 
when  Rover,  scrambling  through,  leaped  into  her  face,  and 
expressed  his  delight  by  barking  playfully,  licking  her 
hands,  and  thumping  the  sides  of  the  niche  with  his  ani 
mated  tail. 

Fortunately  Dickson  had  turned  again  to  go,  and  was  at 
that  moment  making  long  strides  across  the  field.  Bim  re 
turned  to  Charlotte  just  in  time  to  bump  noses  with  Rover, 
who,  not  liking  the  smoke,  was  leaping  out  of  the  hay. 

"  He's  gone  !  "  whispered  the  boy.  "  Darn  his  old  whip, 
I  say  !  Did  ye  know  he  set  the  stack  afire  ?  " 

"  Did  I  know  it  ?  ''  gasped  Charlotte. 

"  I'm  all  of  a  tremble  yit !  "  said  Bim.  "  But,  confound 
his  pictur' !  he  didn't  find  ye,  after  all,  did  he  ?  That's  all 
I  care  for  !  " 

"  And  it's  all  I  care  for  now  !  I  feel  faint !  Will  you 
give  me  a  handful  of  snow  ?  " 

The  boy  brought  the  snow  ;  she  pressed  it  on  her  fore 
head,  as  she  lay  panting  upon  the  hay. 

"The  stack  would  'a'  gone,  sure  as  lightnin',  if  the  out 
side  on't  hadn't  been  damp,"  said  Bim.  "•  Shall  I  go  up 
an'  tell  father  now  ?  " 

"  If  you  will ;  but  be  careful,  let  no  one  else  know  " 


810  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  I'll  keep  it  from  Pheeb,  anyway !  She  always  tells 
everything.  Say  !  shall  I  leave  Kover  for  company  ?  " 

A  faint  "  No "  was  the  response ;  and  the  excited  boy, 
having  thrown  the  superfluous  hay  over  the  fence,  and  re 
arranged  that  at  the  mouth  of  the  cell,  leaving  only  a 
breathing-place,  as  he  called  it,  went  off  whistling,  to  ap 
pear  unconcerned.  She  listened  in  her  retreat ;  the  sounds 
grew  faint  and  fainter,  ceasing  at  last ;  and  she  was  left 
alone,  in  darkness  and  silence,  hemmed  in  by  the  low  roof 
and  prickly  walls  of  her  cell. 

For  some  minutes  she  lay  still,  and  prayed.  In  that 
simple  and  childlike  act  new  strength  was  given  her,  and 
she  was  enabled  to  think  calmly  of  her  state.  She  took 
care  of  her  feet,  removing  their  wet  covering,  and  drying 
them  in  the  warm  hay.  She  bound  her  handkerchief 
about  her  injured  hand.  Then,  finding  that  Abimelech  had 
shut  her  in  too  closely,  and  that  the  air  of  the  cell  was  still 
poisoned  with  smoke,  she  moved  the  hay  from  the  opening, 
and  lay  down  upon  it,  where  she  could  look  out  upon  the 
thickening  darkness,  and  listen  to  the  sighing  wind  and 
pattering  rain. 


THE  NIGHT  311 


XXXIV 

THE    NIGHT 

THE  night  set  in,  wild  and  stormy.  The  rain  increased, 
the  gale  blew  fitfully,  the  far-off  forest  roared.  With  her 
hands  clasped  upon  her  breast,  Charlotte  lay  gazing  out 
into  the  dark,  and  listening  to  the  storm,  until  the  night, 
the  wind,  and  the  rain  seemed  no  longer  anything  of 
themselves,  but  a  part  of  herself,  and  all  within  her  own 
soul. 

"  0  heaven  !  0  grief !  0  love  ! "  were  the  thoughts 
that  filled  her  universe. 

The  last  glimmer  of  day  had  faded,  and  darkness  lay 
like  a  thick  substance  on  the  earth,  when  the  footsteps  she 
had  long  expected  came  plashing  through  the  snow. 

"  Cha'lotte  !  "  said  the  voice  of  Mr.  Jackwood. 

"  I  am  here  !  "  breathed  Charlotte,  with  a  joyous  thrill. 

"  I've  brought  ye  some  supper,  and  some  dry  stockin's," 
returned  the  farmer.  "  Where  be  ye  ?  " 

"  Here  !  "  and  Charlotte  reached  out  her  hand.  "  0  Mr. 
Jackwood ! " 

"  It's  a  dre'ful  tejus  night  ! "  observed  the  farmer,  get 
ting  down  by  the  stack.  "  I  wish  you  was  safe  to  the 
house,  once." 

"  I  wish  I  was  safe  somewhere  !  But  it  is  all  well,  good 
Mr.  Jackwood.  If  I  can  be  kept  concealed  here  " 

"  Sence  Bim'lech  told  me  o'  the  hole,  I  ben  thinkin'," 
said  the  farmer,  "  'twould  be  as  well.  The  men  have  ben 
to  my  house,  —  two  come  by  the  road,  an'  t'other  acrost  the 
meader ;  an'  they'll  be  there  agin  prob'bly,  for  they've  got 


812  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

the  notion  that  we  know  where  you  be.  Oliver  Dole  was 
there,  an'  they  made  a  s'arch  in  the  barn,  an'  wood-shed, 
an'  all  over  the  house ;  we  couldn't  bender  'em,  an'  I 
thought  it  'bout  as  well  to  let  'em  have  a  good  time  on't, 
long  as  you  wan't  there.  Take  your  choice,  though,"  added 
Mr.  Jackwood ;  "  if  ye  don't  fancy  stoppin'  here,  I'll  git  ye 
up  to  the  house  some  way,  and  do  my  best  to  take  care  on 
ye  while  ye're  there." 

"  Let  me  stay  here ;  I'd  rather." 

"  How  much  room  ye  got  ?  Dear  me !  It's  quite  a 
house,  ain't  it  ?  I  never  see  the  beat  o'  that  boy's  mis 
chief  !  I've  told  him,  time  an'  agin,  not  to  be  makin'  holes 
in  the  stacks ;  but  I  guess  I'll  let  him  off  easy,  seem'  it's 
turned  out  so  well  for  you  ! " 

"  You  know,"  faltered  Charlotte,  "  why  I  am  here  ?  " 

"  I  kind  o'  ketched  a  little  on't,  from  what  was  said. 
But  never  mind  about  that.  I'd  as  soon  think  of  givin'  up 
my  own  darter  to  'em  as  you  ! " 

Charlotte  held  the  farmer's  hard  and  knotty  hand,  and 
kissed  it  fervently. 

"  You  needn't  have  no  fears  'bout  me,"  he  continued, 
with  hearty  sympathy.  "  I  guess  Bim'lech  Jackwood  '11 
turn  out  a  perty  sound  kind  o'  wood,  at  heart.  I  told  ye  so, 
perhaps  you  recollect,  the  fust  time  't  ever  I  see  ye ;  'twas 
in  one  o'  these  very  meaders,  but  a  leetle  furder  down.  I 
hain't  forgot  it,  if  you  have.  Shall  I  send  word  to  Mist' 
Dunb'ry's  folks  't  you  are  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  —  unless  —  unless  Hector  comes  home  !  " 

"Wai,  we'll  talk  o'  that  to-morrow.  Mist'  Dunbury  '11 
be  harder  'n  ever  on  our  country  now.  He's  English  ;  and 
I  don't  know  't  I  ever  talked  with  him  in  the  world,  't  he 
hadn't  some  flaw  to  pick  in  our  institutions.  I've  kep'  up 
my  eend  o'  the  argyment  perty  well  so  fur ;  but  I  guess 
he'll  git  the  start  o'  me  now.  I  should  think  he'd  move 
heaven  an'  airth  to  git  you  clear.  What  did  he  say  about 
it?" 


THE  NIGHT  313 

Charlotte's  bosom  heaved,  and  the  farmer  felt  her  shud 
dering  breath  on  his  hand. 

"  Wai,  never  mind  to-night.  Oh !  did  I  tell  ye  little  Etty 
Greenwich  stopped  to  our  house,  on  her  way  hum  ?  That 
was  a  good  joke,  sendin'  the  kidnabbers  arter  Bridget, 
while  you  got  away  !  Wai,  I  don't  know  as  there's  any 
thing  more,  'thout  you'd  like  to  have  me  stay  with  ye  a 
little  while,  for  company." 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  replied  Charlotte.  "  The  rain  is  dripping  on 
you." 

"  I  don't  mind  the  rain  a  mite.  Besides,  if  you'd  like 
to  have  me,  I'll  git  a  board  off  'm  the  stack,  an'  put  it 
down  here,  then  I'll  set  an'  talk,  while  you're  eatin'  your 
supper." 

Mr.  Jack  wood  was  going  for  the  board,  but  Charlotte 
entreated  him  to  give  himself  no  more  trouble  and  discom 
fort  on  her  account.  "  Wai,  good-night,  then.  You  may 
depend  on  seein'  some  of  us  airly  in  the  moriiin'.  But  it's 
dre'ful  tough,"  added  the  farmer  with  compunctions.  "  The 
rain'll  turn  to  snow,  and  it'll  freeze  up,  tight  as  a  drum, 
'bout  midnight.  I'm  'fraid  you'll  be  cold  here ;  an'  I  d'n'no 
but  you'd  better  go  up  to  the  house  arter  all." 

"  No,"  said  Charlotte.  "  It  is  quite  warm  in  here  ;  my 
clothes  are  getting  dry,  and  I  am  very  comfortable.  You 
have  done  all  you  can.  I  wish  I  could  thank  you !  —  but 
—  good -night  !  " 

"  Wai,  good-night  it  is,  then ! "  returned  the  farmer. 
"  Keep  up  good  heart  —  that's  all  I  got  to  say.  'T  '11  all 
be  right,  — 't  '11  be  right,  —  in  the  eend." 

Mr.  Jackwood  departed.  Charlotte  listened,  as  his  foot 
steps  went  away  in  the  dreary  dark.  Then  she  was  once 
more  alone  ;  and  the  storm  beat  still,  and  the  wind  whistled, 
and  the  far-off  forest  roared. 

In  a  thoughtful  mood  the  farmer  pushed  on  through  the 
rain  and  snow.  More  than  once  he  stopped,  and  was  on 
the  point  of  going  back  for  Charlotte.  It  seemed  to  him, 


314  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

as  he  afterwards  confessed,  as  though  "  suthin'  was  goin'  to 
happen ;  "  and  he  could  not  feel  right  about  leaving  her. 

"  But  Fll  push  on  up  to  the  house,"  said  he,  "  anyway  ; 
and  then  see  how  the  weather  acts." 

Arrived,  dripping  wet,  at  the  kitchen,  he  was  astonished 
to  find  a  burly,  low-browed  man  sitting  before  the  stove,  in 
an  attitude  and  with  looks  of  dogged  discontent.  It  was 
Dickson,  who,  after  pretending  to  depart  with  his  compan 
ions,  had  returned  to  spend  the  night  in  the  suspected 
house. 


"  Why,  what  does  ail  you,  father  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Jackwood, 
in  the  middle  of  the  night.  "  How  narvous  you  be  !  " 

"  I'm  consarned  about  Cha'lotte  !  "  replied  the  farmer. 
"  I  felt  sartin  the  wind  'u'd  git  round  t'  the  north,  and 
come  off  cold,  'fore  this.  If  it  keeps  on  rainin',  there'll  be 
a  foot  o'  water  on  the  interval,  by  mornin'." 

"  You  don't  think  the  crick  '11  break  up,  do  ye  ?  " 

"  No  ;  'tain't  thawed  enough  for  that,  —  though  the  snow 
has  gone  off  like  smoke  the  last  four-'n'-twenty  hours  !  " 
Mr.  Jackwood  tossed  about  sleeplessly  for  an  hour  longer. 
"  I  guess  I'll  git  up,"  said  he,  at  length,  "  and  see  how  the 
weather  looks.  It  don't  rain  so  hard  as  it  did,  and  seems 
to  me  the  wind  sounds  colder."  He  put  on  his  clothes,  and 
went  out.  "  There's  more  rain  fell  than  I  thought  for," 
he  said,  returning  presently.  "  I  do'no'  'bout  the  crick.  I 
guess  I  better  go  down  an'  git  Cha'lotte  up  to  the  barn,  to 
ventur'.  If  't  hadn't  been  for  that  plaguy  kidnabber  !  I 
wouldn't  begrudge  a  night's  lodgin'  to  the  wust  enemy  I 
got,  but  I  could  'a'  turned  him  ou'  doors  into  the  storm 
with  a  good  stomach,  if  there' d  ben  any  way  of  gittin'  red 
of  him.  I'll  take  the  hoss  an'  an  umbrel',  an'  I  guess  we'll 
git  along." 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Jackwood.  "  I  thought  I 
heard  something  on  the  stairs." 


THE  NIGHT  315 

Mr.  Jackwood  went  to  examine,  and  met  Dickson  coming 
softly  from  the  chamber. 

"  You're  up  late,"  said  Dickson,  with  a  sinister  smile. 

"  I  should  ruther  say  'twas  airly,"  retorted  the  farmer. 
"D'ye  want  anything  p'tic'lar  ?" 

"  I  come  down  to  see  if  I  could  git  a  drink  o'  water." 

'•  Wai,  sir,  that  ye  can  have.  The  pump  's  in  here;  't  '11 
want  priiiiin'.  If  you'll  wait  a  minute,  I'll  bring  ye  a 
glass." 

"  It's  a  rainy  night,"  observed  Dickson. 

"  Terrible,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  plying  the  wheezy 
pump. 

"  I  hope  that  gal  ain't  out  nowheres  !  "  returned  the  other. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  farmer. 

"  Look  a'  yer  !  ''  exclaimed  Dickson,  in  an  undertone, 
"I'm  bent  on  findin'  that  gal ;  and  'tain't  no  use  her  try  in' 
to  git  away.  Now,  I  tell  ye  what ;  it's  my  opinion  you 
know  where  she  is." 

«  I  wish  I  did  !  " 

"  I've  thought  so,  all  along  ;  and  I'm  good  as  sure  now. 
You  ain't  up  at  four  in  the  mornin'  for  nothin'.  Now,  be 
reason'ble,  and  own  up.  It  '11  be  better  for  the  gal,  for  the 
job  will  be  over  with  sooner ;  and  it's  got  to  come,  first  or 
last.  It  '11  be  better  for  you,  too,  in  more  senses  than  one. 
I  s'pose  you  know  the  consequences  o'  harborin'  or  con- 
cealin'  a  fugitive,  an'  resistin'  the  execush'n  o'  the  law  ? 
Now,  look  a'  yer  !  "  Dickson  took  a  heavy  purse  from  his 
pocket,  and  counted  out  some  pieces  of  money.  "  Thar's 
fifty  dollars  for  ye,  if  you'd  like  to  earn  it." 

"  'Arn  it  ?     How  ?  " 

"  By  simply  say  in'  three  words  that  '11  set  me  on  the 
ri^ht  track.  Ye  don't  find  fifty  dollars  in  the  dirt  every 
day." 

"  I  should  like  to  find  fifty  dollars  well  enough,"  replied 
the  farmer;  "but  I  do'no'  'bout  pickin'  it  out  o'  jest  that 
kind  o'  dirt  —  even  s'posin'." 


816  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Dickson  felt  encouraged.      "  I'll  make  it  —  le'  me  see 

—  sixty,    seventy,  seventy-five.      Now,    thar's    a   chance ! 

Come,"  looking  at  his  watch,    "'twon't  pay  to  go  to  bed 

agin  to-night,  I  reck'n ;  so,  le's  set  down  and  talk  it  over." 

"You'll  have  to  wait  for  me  a  little  while,"  said  the 
farmer,  taking  down  the  lantern. 

"  You  goin'  out  in  the  rain  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  got  to  look  to  my  bosses." 

"  If  that's  all,"  cried  Dickson,  "  I'll  go  along  with  ye, 
and  we'll  be  talkin'." 

The  farmer,  exasperated,  felt  an  impulse  to  smash  the 
lantern  in  the  villain's  face.  Dickson  smiled  ;  in  that  smile 
there  was  low  cunning  and  surly  determination,  which 
showed  that  it  was  useless  to  attempt,  either  by  stratagem 
or  force,  to  shake  him  off. 

As  they  stood  there,  a  fresh  volley  of  wind  and  rain, 
lashing  the  kitchen  window,  filled  Mr.  Jackwood  with 
fresh  anxiety  for  Charlotte's  safety.  He  hurried  forth, 
pulling  the  door  after  him ;  but  Dickson  wrenched  it  open 
with  a  powerful  hand,  and  stalked  to  his  side. 

"  None  o'  that ! "  he  growled,  taking  the  farmer's  arm. 
"We  may  as  well  keep  together,  I  reck'n.  I  don't  mind 
the  rain." 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  317 


XXXV 

HECTOR'S  JOURNEY 

IT  was  a  close,  wet  evening.  Rolling  vapors  filled  the 
sky.  A  crowd  was  gathered  by  the  river,  and  a  line  of 
slaves,  ranged  along  the  wharf,  held  pitch-pine  torches 
above  their  heads,  to  light  a  steamer  coming  up  from  the 
bay.  Gradually  the  vessel  approached,  her  slow  wheels 
beating  the  water  ;  cries  passed  from  deck  to  wharf  ;  the 
lines  were  flung  out,  and  made  fast  to  the  shore  ;  then 
came  the  rush  and  bustle  of  landing  —  friends  greeting 
friends,  porters  shouldering  luggage,  the  mate  hoarsely 
yelling  his  orders  at  the  gang  of  negro  deck-hands,  car 
riages  and  wagons  in  attendance,  and  the  flare  of  the 
torches  wavering  over  all. 

There  was  one  passenger,  among  the  first  to  land,  who 
made  haste  to  engage  a  hack,  and  rode  away  from  this 
animated  and  picturesque  scene.  As  the  vehicle  rattled 
through  the  town,  he  gazed  listlessly  upon  the  lighted 
shops,  the  gay  saloons,  and  the  glistening,  muddy  walks. 
Each  spot  was  familiar  to  his  eye  ;  but  how  far  off  and 
cold  and  idle  seemed  all  that  life  to  the  world  of  thought 
and  feeling  in  his  own  breast  ! 

Suddenly  the  carriage  stopped.  "What  is  the  trouble?" 
and  he  put  his  head  out  of  the  window. 

"  The  Strikers  !  "  said  the  coachman.  Other  vehicles 
had  stopped.  At  the  doors  and  windows  of  houses,  on  the 
steps,  on  the  walks,  appeared  throngs  of  spectators,  present 
ing  a  variety  of  complexions,  rather  remarkable  to  an  eye 
unaccustomed  to  mixed  races.  The  music  of  a  band  ap- 


318  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

preaching  floated  upon  the  air  j  and  Hector,  looking  in  the 
direction  towards  which  the  many-hued  faces  were  turned, 
beheld  a  grotesque  procession.  Then  he  remembered  that 
it  was  New  Year's  Eve,  the  season  of  masquerades;  and 
that  the  STRIKERS  were  one  of  the  famous  societies  which, 
by  their  fantastic  displays  upon  that  anniversary,  made 
Mobile .  the  rival  of  Rome  and  Venice  in  their  gay  carni 
vals. 

A  double  chain  of  torch-bearers,  with  dusky  faces  and 
bare  arms,  like  those  upon  the  wharf,  marked  the  line  of 
the  procession.  In  front  burned  the  cabalistic  characters 
of  the  order  —  "  S.  I.  S."  —  upon  an  ornate  and  showy 
standard.  Then  (wonderful  to  behold  !)  came  marching 
out  of  the  fabulous  past,  out  of  the  realms  of  fiction,  out 
of  the  covers  of  books,  the  heroes  of  romance  :  Amadis  of 
Gaul,  the  Cid,  and  Arthur,  with  knights  of  the  round  table, 
in  gorgeous  panoply ;  Don  Quixote,  grim  with  courage, 
mounted  on  the  boniest  of  steeds,  and  accompanied  by  his 
doughty  squire,  striding  a  grave  animal  of  a  long-eared 
race ;  Ivanhoe,  Robin  Hood,  and  the  fantastic  Wamba ; 
Tom  Jones  and  Gil  Bias,  walking  arm  in  arm  ;  and  the 
Count  of  Monte  Cristo  in  conversation  with  the  Wander 
ing  Jew.  Leatherstocking,  and  some  of  Cooper's  Indians, 
appeared  conspicuous  ;  and  Robinson  Crusoe  and  his  man 
Friday  marched  in  the  midst  of  the  procession. 

It  tramped  on  through  the  thin  and  slippery  mud,  the 
glare  of  the  torches  growing  sombre  and  misty  in  the  dis 
tance;  and  Hector,  who  had  dismounted  from  the  coach, 
was  about  resuming  his  seat,  when  a  hand  touched  his 
shoulder. 

"  I  had  to  put  on  my  glasses  to  make  sure  'twas  you  !  " 
cried  a  cordial  old  gentleman,  grasping  his  hand.  "  Where 
did  you  come  from  ?  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I  landed  ten  minutes  ago  from  the  steamer,  and  I  am 
on  rny  way  to  the  Battle  House." 

"  The  Battle  House  ?     I  suppose  you  know  the  Strikers 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  319 

give  a  grand  entertainment  there  to-night !  You  shall  see 
the  last  of  the  Mohicans  dance  in  his  war-paint  and 
feathers,  and  make  havoc  with  the  hearts  of  the  ladies. 
Mr.  Pickwick  and  Sam  "\Veller  may  be  expected  to  vie 
with  each  other  in  gallantry,  and  Rip  Van  Winkle  shall 
show  himself  wide  awake  after  his  twenty  years'  nap. 
Meanwhile,  why  won't  you  jump  into  my  carriage,  and  ride 
with  us  to  Eoyal  Street?"  cried  the  old  gentleman.  "You 
must  see  the  Cowbellions.  And,  I'll  tell  you  what,  your 
valise  shall  be  sent  to  my  house,  and  you  shall  make  us  a 
visit." 

He  would  listen  to  no  objections ;  and  Hector,  who  had 
in  fact  no  very  grave  objections  to  advance,  accepted  the 
invitation.  The  old  gentleman's  carriage  was  close  by.  It 
contained  two  ladies:  one  a  line-looking,  middle-aged  per 
son,  arrayed  with  considerable  magnificence ;  the  other 
younger,  of  a  more  delicate  beauty,  and  a  more  thoughtful 
and  spiritual  countenance. 

"  My  sister,  Mrs.  De  Rohan,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
indicating  the  elder  of  the  two,  "  and  my  niece.  Ladies, 
Mr.  Dunbury." 

"  I  expected  to  see  Helen,"  said  Hector. 

"  She  is  preparing  for  a  ball.  After  witnessing  the  show, 
we  will  try  to  get  home  in  time  to  see  her  off.  Drive  on, 
Parchment!"  to  the  colored  coachman.  "Royal  Street." 

"  Yes,  massa,"  said  Parchment,  proudly  drawing  up  the 
reins.  Royal  Street  was  found  impassable ;  and  Parchment, 
consulting  his  master,  brought  the  span  to  a  halt  upon  an 
eligible  corner.  Another  procession  was  approaching  ;  and 
the  crowds  were  dense.  First  came  the  band,  in  dashing 
uniforms  ;  then  followed,  amid  a  throng  of  servitors,  the 
colossal  effigy  of  a  milk-white  cow,  with  extraordinary 
horns,  a  wondrous  length  of  tail,  and  luminous  eyes  —  all 
hung  with  festoons  of  rib/lions  and  with  silver  bells. 

"  These  are  the  Cowbellions,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Copliff  ?  " 
said  Hector. 


320  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  venerable  name  of  the  society,"  replied 
the  old  gentleman. 

"  What  a  whimsical  caprice ! "  exclaimed  the  elder  of  the 
two  ladies. 

"  A  caprice,"  said  her  brother,  "  which  has  grown  in 
power  and  popularity  for  some  twenty  years.  I  was  once  a 
Cowbellion  myself,"  he  added,  with  self-complacency. 

"  You  !  "  cried  Mrs.  De  Rohan.  "  Dear  me  !  what  is  the 
meaning  of  those  outlandish  costumes  ?  " 

"I  should  think  the  entire  mineral  kingdom  had  marched 
out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  to  parade  in  Royal  Street ! " 
said  Hector.  "  See  !  on  that  coal-black  steed,  that  coal- 
black  rider  with  a  block  of  sea-coal  for  a  head." 

"  Old  King  Cole  himself  !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Copliff. 

"  Precious  Stones  sparkles  superbly  in  contrast,"  said 
Hector.  "To  his  knees,  if  I  read  him  rightly,  he  is  all 
garnets  ;  his  breast  is  of  onyx,  his  arms  of  ruby,  his  thighs 
sapphire,  and  his  head  of  pure  diamonds.  How  ludicrous 
Chalk  looks,  coming  after  !  He  is  as  white  as  ten  millers. 
There  is  Iron,  and  Silver,  and  Gold ;  and,  look !  there 
comes  the  vegetable  kingdom,  —  animated  melons,  colossal 
cauliflowers,  and  beets  on  horseback  !  " 

"  A  repetition,  a  plagiarism  !  "  cried  Mr.  Copliff.  "  We 
had  the  vegetable  kingdom  thirteen  years  ago,  when  I  was 
a  Cowbellion.  I  was  a  cabbage-head.  You  never  saw  any 
thing  so  green.  My  leaves  covered  me  to  my  waist ;  an 
absent-minded  ox  might  have  eaten  me.  I  was  constructed 
of  pasteboard  and  green  cambric." 

Hector  became  suddenly  thoughtful. 

"  Are  you  tired  of  it,  Dunbury  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  Hector  started.  "  But  my  mind  was  else 
where.  I  did  wrong  to  accept  your  invitation ;  I'm  not  in 
a  social  mood  to-night." 

"  You  will  find  a  sympathizing  companion  in  my  niece," 
said  the  old  gentleman.  "  I  believe  she  has  not  spoken 
since  you  joined  us.  Have  we  seen  enough,  ladies  ? 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  321 

Drive  home,  Parchment  !  By  the  way,  Lucy,  tell  Dun- 
bury  about  —  what  was  the  name  ?  Your  favorite.  He  is 
from  the  North,  and  may  give  you  some  information  and 
advice." 

"  That  is  not  probable.  But,"  said  the  niece,  after  some 
hesitation,  "  it  is  easy  to  state  the  facts.  I  had  a  favorite, 
as  my  uncle  rightly  calls  her  " 

"  I  remember  the  name  now  ! "  cried  Mr.  Copliff :  "  Ca- 
mille." 

How  the  shock  of  that  word  smote  Hector's  heart ! 

"  She  was  by  nature  a  rare  character ;  and  during  the 
few  years  she  lived  with  me,"'  said  Lucy,  "  she  developed 
wonderfully.  Although  my  servant,  she  was  more  like  a 
younger  sister ;  and  I  treated  her  as  such." 

Mr.  Copliff:  "There  you  were  wrong,"  dogmatically, 
« totally  wrong,  Lucy.  But  you  know  my  principles,  and 
we  will  not  argue  that  point.  A  person  born  of  a  slave 
mother  should  not,  on  any  condition  " 

"  You  do  not  know  Cumille,  uncle,  or  you  would  never 
repeat  your  celebrated  axiom,"  said  the  other,  with  a  smile. 

Mr.  Copliff  indulgently  :  "  Well,  well,  my  dear,  go  on." 

"  Circumstances,  which  I  need  not  explain,  removed 
Camille  from  me  at  a  critical  and  dangerous  period.  It 
was  not  in  my  power  to  intercede,  and  she  was  sold.  Are 
you  interested  ?  " 

"  Much,"  spoke  Hector,  betwixt  the  beatings  of  his  heart. 

"  I  think  it  wras  horrible  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  De  Rohan. 
"I  have  not  come  South  to  interfere  with  your  blessed  in 
stitutions,  brother,"  with  sarcasm,  "  but  you  must  allow  me 
now  and  then  to  express  a  meek  opinion.  I  think  the  idea 
of  a  young  girl,  like  Camille,  being  sold  "- 

Mr.  Copliff,  wincing  :  "  Go  on,  Lucy." 

"  Until  very  recently  I  was  not  free  to  make  any  efforts 
in  her  behalf,"  said  his  niece.  "But  Camille  had  been 
brought  to  this  city  from  New  Orleans ;  and  on  my  arrival 
here,  three  days  ago,  I  went  personally  to  search  her  out. 


322  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

1  applied  to  the  man  who  purchased  her ;  when,  imagine 
my  astonishment  to  learn  that  she  had  made  her  escape  to 
freedom !  " 

Hector  could  scarce  refrain  from  clasping  the  speaker's 
hand,  in  the  sympathy  and  exultation  of  his  spirit. 

"This  interests  you,  I  see.  But  hear  the  rest.  I 
thought  it  natural  that  the  man  would  dispose  of  his  claim 
upon  the  poor  girl  for  a  mere  trifle  ;  and  I  resolved  that,  if 
within  the  limit  of  my  means,  I  would  secure  it ;  for  I  had 
hopes  that  she  would  communicate  with  me  at  no  distant 
day,  and  then  I  could  have  the  gratification  of  giving  her 
liberty,  and  insuring  her  safety  should  she  choose  to  return, 
to  me." 

"  And  you  bought  the  claim  ?  "  breathed  Hector. 

"  I  did  not ;  I  will  tell  you  why.  '  Had  you  proposed 
the  thing  a  month  ago/  said  the  man,  '  you  should  have 
had  her  for  a  song.  Now  it  is  different.'  'How  differ 
ent  ?  '  I  asked.  (  Because  then  I  had  no  hopes  of  ever 
hearing  from  her  again.'  { But  now '  —  l  Now  I  have 
hopes,'  said  he,  with  a  confidence  that  stunned  me." 

"  Here  we  are  at  home  !  "  cried  Mr.  Copliff.  "  Wait  and 
finish  your  story,  Lucy,  after  we  get  in.  We  will  indulge 
in  a  little  refreshment ;  then,  if  you  like,  Dunbury,  we  will 
ride  around  to  the  Battle  House,  and  call  on  the  Strikers. 
Keep  the  carriage  up,  Parchment." 

Hector  could  not  speak.  Mechanically  he  helped  the 
ladies  down,  and  accompanied  them  into  the  house. 

"  I  have  but  a  word  to  add,"  said  the  younger  of  the 
two.  "  There  was  a  stubbornness  and  independence  in  the 
man  upon  which  I  could  make  no  impression.  He  declared 
that,  as  matters  stood,  he  would  sooner  risk  an  entire  loss, 
including  the  expense  he  had  incurred  in  the  hope  of 
recovering  Camille,  than  sell  his  claim  for  less  than  eight 
hundred  dollars." 

"  That  is  exorbitant !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Copliff.  "  I  would 
never  give  that." 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  323 

"  But  if  she  is  brought  back,  it  would  require  a  much  lar 
ger  sum  to  purchase  her.  Consider,  she  is  a  beautiful "  — 

"  But  fugitives  are  not  brought  back  so  easily,  my  dear 
woman ;  so  don't  be  alarmed.  Ah  !  there  comes  Helen  for 
our  criticisms  on  her  ball-dress  !  " 

A  beautiful  girl,  of  rather  petite  figure,  but  voluptuously 
formed,  made  her  appearance  in  superb  white  attire,  with 
jewels  glittering  on  her  arms  and  in  her  hair. 

"  Well  done ! "  cried  her  father.  "  There,  Dunbury," 
turning  with  a  smile  of  pride  to  Hector,  "  what  do  you 
think  of  that?" 

Helen  started  back,  with  a  blush,  at  sight  of  her  father's 
guest ;  but,  recovering  herself  presently,  she  advanced, 
self-possessed,  with  a  smile  of  welcome,  to  lay  her  delicate 
white-gloved  hand  in  Hector's.  He  took  it  coldly,  and 
with  a  few  formal  and  commonplace  words,  uttered  with 
effort,  bowed  stiffly,  like  an  automaton. 

"Is  that  New  England  gallantry  ?"  cried  Mr.  Copliff,  in 
a  rallying  tone.  "Come  to  me,  darling;  I  will  teach  our 
cool  friend  Southern  etiquette."  He  bent  down  and  kissed 
her  tenderly  upon  both  cheeks.  "  There,  go,  my  pet !  You 
have  a  great  deal  of  snow  and  ice  in  Vermont,  have  you 
not  ?  "  turning  again  to  Hector. 

"  In  their  season,"  said  the  young  man,  without  a  smile. 
kl  We  have  fiery  skies,  too,  in  their  turn.  There  is  a  time 
for  everything  under  the  sun." 

Mr.  Copliff  perceived  the  pale  anxiety  of  his  face,  and 
changed  his  tone.  "  Well,"  pressing  his  hand  heartily, 
"  we  will  not  quarrel  about  sectional  differences.  Let  me 
show  you  to  your  quarters.  You  will  find  your  baggage 
there  before  you." 

"Mr.  Dunbury  has  something  to  say  to  me,"  interposed 
his  niece  gently,  "if  my  impressions  do  not  deceive  me." 

"  They  do  not  !  "  exclaimed  Hector ;  "  I  have  something 
to  say  to  you." 

Mr.   Copliff  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in   astonish- 


324  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

ment.  "  You  are  two  incomprehensibles  !  You  have  pro 
gressed,  for  a  short  acquaintance.  Come,  Mrs.  De  !  "  And, 
giving  his  sister  his  arm,  he  led  her  with  lofty  politeness 
from  the  room. 

Then  Hector  turned  to  Mrs.  Graves. 

"  You  knew  I  wished  to  speak  with  you ! "  he  said 
eagerly. 

"  I  felt  it ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Graves.     "  About  Camille." 

"You  are  right.  I  know  her.  And,  through  her,  I 
know  you ! " 

"  I  thought  so.     Tell  me  of  her  !     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"In  my  father's  house.  I  have  come  to  make  terms 
with  —  the  man  who  calls  himself  her  owner.  I  supposed 
he  would  dispose  of  his  claim  for  any  trine.  I  hope  I  have 
not  arrived  too  late !  If  she  has  been  discovered  (that  is 
what  I  fear),  she  must  be  saved  ;  she  must  be  bought." 

"  Oh,  truly  she  must !     I  am  not  rich  " 

"  Nor  I  !  But  what  I  have  I  count  but  as  straw  in  the 
balance  with  her  happiness  !  In  my  pocket-book  is  a  draft 
for  five  hundred  dollars.  By  some  means,  I  do  not  yet 
know  what,  I  must  raise  the  remainder  by  to-morrow  morn 
ing." 

"  Depend  upon  me  for  that,"  cried  Mrs.  Graves.  "  I 
claim  the  privilege  of  doing  at  least  so  much " 

"  Generous  heart !  as  if  you  had  done  nothing  for  her 
yet !  Oh,"  said  Hector,  "  you  should  hear  her  speak  of 
you ;  it  is  always  with  such  gratitude,  such  love  !  For  her 
sake  I  accept  your  contribution.  Some  day  I  shall  be  able 
to  repay  it,  with  interest !  Then  I  will  thank  you  !  Par 
don  my  abruptness  now,  excuse  me  to  Helen  " 

"  You  are  going  ?  " 

"  I  shall  try  to  send  a  telegraphic  despatch  this  evening. 
I  know  the  man  who  has  betrayed  her.  She  must  be 
warned ;  she  must  go  back  to  Canada  at  once.  When  I 
return,  you  shall  know  all  about  her." 

Hector  was  intercepted  in  the  hall  by  Mr.  Copliff. 


HECTOR  '  S   JO  URNE  Y  3 25 

"  What  now  ?  "  cried  the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  was  about  to  demonstrate  the  coolness  of  my  Ver 
mont  temper  by  taking  an  unceremonious  leave.  I  shall 
return  in  half  an  hour.  I  have  thought  of  a  little  matter 
of  business  —  a  telegraphic  despatch  " 

"  Is  it  so  important  ?  Then  let  Parchment  drive  you 
to  the  office.  Make  haste  to  return,  for  supper  will  be 
waiting." 

"  Thank  you  a  thousand  times  ! "  and  Hector  mounted 
the  carriage,  and  rode  away. 

"  TV'hat  success  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Graves,  half  an  hour 
later,  meeting  him  in  the  hall. 

"  Dubious  !  I  cannot  learn  until  to-morrow  when  the 
despatch  wrill  get  through  to  its  destination." 

'*  \Ve  must  be  patient,  and  have  faith  till  then ! " 

"  Eaith  !  "  answered  Hector.  "  Oh,  to-morrow  !  to 
morrow  ! " 


"  Wish  yer  happy  New  Year,  massa !  "  said  old  Juno,  the 
rook,  looking  up,  and  showing  her  good-natured  face  and 
broken  teeth  as  her  master  came  muttering  down  the 
stairs. 

"  I  wish  you  a  hundred  thousand  ! "  growled  Dr.  Tan- 
wood,  tying  his  cravat,  "  and  as  many  children  ! " 

"  Laws  bless  us  !  what  'u'd  a'  ol'  'oman  do  with  so  many 
Xew  Years  as  dat,  say  nuffin  'bout  de  chil'n  ?  " 

"  Plague  your  masters  with  your  everlasting  clatter  ! 
There's  no  use  trying  to  get  any  sleep  in  this  house  ! " 

"  Laws,  massa  !  hasn't  ye  no  idee  what  time  o'  day  'tis  ? 
Clock  struck  ten  'mos'  'n  hour  ago.  Been  a  gen'l'man 
waitin'  for  ye  dis  half-hour !  " 

Buttoning  his  waistcoat,  and  sweeping  his  fingers  across 
his  hair,  Dr.  Tanwood  crossed  the  hall-floor,  and  entered 
his  office. 

Hector  was  in  waiting. 


326  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  disturbed  you  "  — 

"  Oh,  not  at  all !  I've  overslept  myself  a  little  this  morn 
ing."  The  doctor  looked  in  the  glass  which  hung  opposite 
the  door,  and  brushed  his  hair  over  his  forehead.  "  What 
can  I  do  for  you,  sir  ?  " 

Hector  was  pale ;  his  heart  beat  strong  and  fast.  "  I 
come  to  you  from  Mrs.  Graves."  The  doctor  fixed  his 
searching  glance  on  Hector.  "Touching  the  affair  she 
spoke  with  you  about  the  other  day  " 

"  I  remember,"  and  the  doctor  nodded,  with  a  peculiar 
smile. 

"  Very  well ;  I  am  authorized  to  treat  with  you." 

The  doctor  sat  silent  for  near  a  minute,  his  dark  eyes 
studying  Hector  from  beneath  their  gathered  brows. 

"But,"  he  exclaimed,  "circumstances  have  occurred  to 
alter  my  decision." 

"Ah?" 

"  For  eight  hundred  dollars,  I  think  it  was,.  I  engaged 
to  make  over  to  Mrs.  Graves  my  claim  upon  the  girl 
Camille." 

"  The  sum  she  named,"  assented  Hector. 

"  She  thought  it  too  much."  The  doctor  leaned  over, 
and  tapped  the  table  significantly.  "  But,  as  matters  now 
stand,  it  is  not  enough.  Prospects  have  risen  ;  and  my 
terms  have  gone  up  in  proportion." 

"Sir,"  said  Hector,  "I  do  not  understand.  Your 
terms  " 

"A  thousand  dollars,  cash  in  hand,"  said  the  doctor; 
and,  with  an  indifferent  air,  he  smoothed  down  the  lock  of 
hair  that  lay  low  upon  his  forehead. 

"  You  must,  then,  be  extremely  confident  "  — 

"Confident?"  The  doctor  laughed.  "Sir,  I'll  wager 
the  price  of  her,  that  in  a  week,  at  the  farthest,  she'll  be 
seen  in  Mobile  !  Then  no  money  will  buy  her." 

A  dizzy  blur  darkened  Hector's  vision.  He  saw  the 
danger  that  threatened  Charlotte  clothed  in  all  its  terrors ; 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  327 

and  money  seemed  but  as  water  to  be  poured  out  for  the 
security  of  her  peace.  Unfortunately  he  had  but  little 
more  than  eight  hundred  dollars  at  his  command,  and  to 
make  a  final  offer  of  that  was  all  that  he  could  do. 

"  Not  qu-i-t-e  enough  ! "  said  the  doctor. 

"  Then,"  said  Hector,  "  I  must  confer  with  Mrs. 
Graves." 

"Very  good,  sir!"  And,  with  a  sinister  smile,  the 
doctor  arose  to  bow  his  visitor  to  the  door. 

Tortured  with  doubts,  Hector  hurried  from  the  office. 
He  hastened  to  find  an  old  friend,  his  former  employer,  of 
whom  he  hoped  for  aid.  He  was  absent  from  the  city. 
Though  stunned  momentarily  by  the  news,  he  lost  no  time 
in  idle  regret,  but,  mounting  a  coach,  rode  to  the  house  of 
an  eminent  physician  whom  he  knew.  He  was  engaged  at 
a  consultation,  and  none  could  tell  when  he  would  be 
home.  Again  in  the  coach,  Hector  held  his  impatient 
spirit  until  the  slow  vehicle  brought  him  to  the  door  of  a 
benevolent  citizen,  of  whom  he  had  formerly  received  so 
many  kindnesses  that  he  had  reason  to  hope  for  more. 
The  bell  was  muffled,  and  a  colored  servant  opened  the 
door  noiselessly.  The  master  was  dangerously  ill,  and 
could  see  no  one. 

Foiled  again  in  his  purpose,  Hector  thought  of  Mr.  Fob- 
bles,  a  merchant,  to  whom  he  had  once  rendered  an  impor 
tant  service,  and  who  had  ever  since  been  loud  in  his 
protestations  of  friendship.  In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  the  two  were  standing  face  to  face.  Mr.  Fobbles  was 
delighted,  and  invited  the  visitor  to  walk  home  with  him 
to  dinner.  Unceremoniously  Hector  named  the  object  of 
his  visit.  Mr.  Fobbles  would  have  been  rejoiced  to  accom 
modate  him ;  "  but,  indeed,  sir,  and  indeed,  sir  !  nothing 
could  have  happened  so  awkwardly  ! "  At  any  other  time 
he  could  have  taken  so  small  a  sum  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
given  him  ;  "  but  losses,  sir,  payments,  perplexities  " 

Hector  broke  impetuously  away.     Mr.  Copliff  was  now 


328  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

his  last  hope.  He  had  dreaded  to  call  on  him  for  money, 
being  his  guest.  But  his  fears  for  Charlotte  overcame 
every  other  consideration.  He  reached  the  office.  Mr. 
Copliff  had  just  gone. 

«  Where  ?  " 

"  To  New  Orleans,  on  business ;  he  will  be  back  this 
evening." 

Ten  minutes  later  Hector  came  upon  his  old  friend 
Joseph  Spalding  like  an  apparition. 

"  Merciful  heavens  ! "  exclaimed  the  young  lawyer,  "  are 
you  substance  or  shadow  ?  " 

"  Substance,"  uttered  Hector,  "  since  I  seek  substantial 
aid.  Give  me  two  hundred  dollars  ! " 

"  That  sounds  like  flesh  and  blood,"  said  Joseph  ;  "  but, 
tell  me,  did  you  ever  know  the  time  when  I  had  two  hun 
dred  dollars  ?  " 

"  Spendthrift !  —  no  !  "  cried  Hector.  "  But  you  should 
have  it !  My  more  than  life  depends  upon  it ! " 

"  Is  it  so  serious  ?  " 

"  Joseph,  I  have  no  time  for  words.  Can  you  get  me 
the  money  ?  " 

"True,"  said  Joseph,  "I  ought  to  be  able  to  raise  so 
small  a  sum,  and  I  will ;  but  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  possi 
bly  have  it  for  you  before  to-morrow." 

"  To-morrow !  there's  an  eternity  betwixt  now  and 
then  ! " 

Hector  returned  to  Mrs.  Graves.  She  grew  pale  at  the 
sight  of  him.  Words  were  needless  to  report  his  ill- 
success. 

"  I  have  nothing  at  my  immediate  command,"  she  said. 
"  What  I  gave  you  this  morning  I  borrowed  of  my  uncle. 
Until  he  returns  "  — 

"  I  have  a  better  thought  !  "  cried  Hector.  "  Can  I  see 
Mrs.  De  Eohan  ?  " 

Mrs.  Graves  left  the  room,  and  the  other  lady  entered. 
She  was  a  woman  of  the  world ;  no  more  like  her  spiritual 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  329 

companion  than  the  moon  is  like  the  stars ;  but  benevolence 
beamed  in  her  face,  and  beneath  the  gay  externals  of  her 
life  throbbed  a  warm  and  generous  heart.  Hector  ap 
proached  her  confidently. 

"  I  have  a  confession  to  make  to  you,  Mrs.  De  Rohan.  I 
have  not  been  quite  true  with  you.  I  met  you  last  night 
as  a  stranger." 

"  And  was  I  not  so  ?  " 

"Not  altogether,  madam.  The  mention  of  your  name 
startled  me  ;  then,  when  I  heard  it  remarked  that  you  were 
from  Canada,  I  remembered  you." 

"  You  had  seen  me,  then  ?  " 

"  I  had  heard  of  you.  You  must  recollect  a  young 
girl  who  partly  engaged  herself  as  your  travelling  com 
panion  " 

"  Indeed  !  Miss  Woods  !  A  charming  person  !  How 
much  I  have  thought  of  her  since  !  And  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Graves  knows  her.  It  was  of  her  she  spoke  last 
night "  - 

"  Of  her  —  Miss  Woods  !  —  Camille  ?  " 

"  They  are  the  same  !  "  And,  without  giving  the  other 
time  to  recover  from  her  astonishment,  Hector  poured 
forth  the  history.  In  his  manner,  his  voice,  his  looks, 
there  was  an  energy  that  swept  everything  before  it.  The 
other  hesitated  not  an  instant.  She  demanded  neither  rea 
sons  nor  explanations.  She  left  the  room,  and,  returning 
straightway,  placed  in  his  hand  a  purse  of  gold. 

"  Take  it ! "  she  said,  "and  may  it  serve  your  purpose  !  " 

Her  features  were  suffused,  her  voice  tremulous,  her  eyes 
tilled  with  tears.  In  the  name  of  Charlotte,  of  humanity, 
of  Him  whose  mission  it  was  to  loose  the  bonds  of  the 
oppressed,  he  uttered  his  thanks,  and  hurried  from  the 
house. 

Once  more  he  confronted  Dr.  Tan  wood.  The  doctor 
smiled,  and,  bowing  with  ironic  civility,  invited  him  to  a 
seat. 


830  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Hector.  "  I  have  seen  Mrs.  Graves. 
And  if  you  will  please  draw  up  the  bill  of  sale  "  The 
words  sounded  strange  and  awful  in  his  ear.  A  bill  of  sale, 
as  of  some  property,  —  a  horse,  or  an  ox  ;  a  bill  of  sale 
of  a  human  soul !  Of  Charlotte  !  of  his  own  wife  ! 

The  doctor,  smiling  still :  "  If  I  will  draw  it  up  " 

"  I  am  prepared  to  comply  with  your  terms." 

The  doctor  leaned  over  the  table,  and  with  gloating  de 
liberation  fixed  Hector  with  his  hard,  vindictive  eye. 

"  But  if  my  terms  should  not  be  precisely  the  same  as 
two  hours  ago  ?  " 

"  Sir  ?  » 

"I  have  had  news,  and  the  presumptive  value  of  my 
property  is  increased." 

"  Is  this,  sir  —  is  this  honorable  dealing  ?  " 

"  Call  it  what  you  please  !  If  you  deal  with  me,  you 
will  take  what  terms  you  can  get." 

"Will  you,  then,  be  so  good,  sir,"  Hector  spoke  calmly, 
but  with  a  kindling  fury  in  his  look,  "as  to  name  your 
ultimate  terms,  that  I  may  know  what  to  depend  upon  ?  " 

"Certainly;  if  it  will  be  any  satisfaction.  Splice  on 
two  hundred  more,  and  you  have  it." 

"  Twelve  hundred  ?  "  articulated  Hector. 

"  Precisely,"  smiled  the  doctor. 

"  Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  put  it  in  writing  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  when  you  produce  the  cash,  provided  live 
stock  has  not  taken  another  sudden  rise." 

At  this  brutal  allusion  Hector  felt  a  dangerous  leaping 
of  the  blood.  With  fixed  teeth,  and  lips  compressed,  he 
produced  his  pocket-book.  Two  checks,  one  of  five  hun 
dred  dollars,  the  other  of  three  hundred,  he  laid  upon  the 
table.  Then  resorting  to  Mrs.  De  Eohan's  purse,  he  emp 
tied  out  a  heap  of  British  gold.  There  was  near  double 
the  amount  he  had  asked  for ;  and,  making  up  the  requisite 
sum  in  small  bills,  he  shoved  it  toward  the  doctor. 

"  Is  that  satisfactory  ?  " 


HECTOR'S  JOURNEY  331 

"  Xo !  "  burst  forth  the  doctor,  and  he  smote  the  table 
fiercely  ;  '•  not  for  twelve  hundred,  nor  twenty  hundred, 
nor  twenty  times  twenty  hundred,  will  I  quit  my  claim 
upon  that  girl  !  " 

A  ghastly  pallor  chased  the  flush  from  Hector's  cheek. 

"Can  1  know,''  his  voice  was  forced,  but  calm,  "can 
I  know  why  I  have  been  made  the  subject  of  this  treat 
ment  ?  " 

"  By  —  — !  you  can.  I  shall  delight  to  show  you ! 
Look  ! "  He  threw  back  the  hair  from  his  forehead,  and 
revealed  a  rugged  scar.  "  Do  you  know  that  ?  Do  you 
know  me?  Do  you  know  this?''  And,  snatching  from 
a  drawer  a  handkerchief  stained  and  stiff  with  blood,  lie 
thrust  it  in  Hector's  face. 

Hector  stood  upon  bis  feet,  and  with  rigid  features  kept 
his  firm  look  fixed  upon  the  doctor. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  ?     Do  you  understand  me  now  ?  " 

"At  least,  I  understand  you  !  "  answered  Hector.  "  AVe 
have  met  before.  I  know  you  now.  Kevenge  may  be  just 
and  noble.  Hut,  sir,  let  it  fall  on  me.  Do  not  make  another 
—  an  innocent  girl  —  its  victim." 

"Your  name  is  here,"  the  doctor  shook  the  handker 
chief,  "  here,  blotted  by  my  blood  !  and  there"  striking 
a  letter  upon  the  table,  "  I  bear  of  you  in  connection 
with  your  innocent  girl  !  I  put  the  two  together.  And, 
sir,  the  owner  of  that  name  shall  see  her  make  a  pleasant 
journey  back  to  Mobile,  and  stop  her  if  he  can.  There'll 
be  sport,  I  reckon,  before  the  job  is  over.  And  now,  sir, 
allow  me  the  pleasure  of  wishing  you  a  good-day." 

u  I  have  a  word,"  said  Hector.  "I  shall  not  argue;  I 
shall  leave  the  business  in  other  hands.  But  there  is  some 
thing  struggling  here "-  —  His  hand  was  upon  his  breast. 
'•'  I  met  you  once  ;  you  attacked  me.  I  shivered  a  tumbler 
in  your  face.  In  self-defence  I  did  it.  In  self-defence  I 
may  do  something  more.  Be  warned !  As  God  exists,  and 
heaven,  the  day  that  sees  Camille  again  in  your  power 


332  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

will  be  the  blackest,  the  most  tragical,  of  your  life.  Ke- 
member  ! " 

"  We  shall  see !"  said  the  doctor;  but  he  spoke  less  jeer- 
ingly  than  before.  "If  I  live,  the  girl  shall  be  brought 
back !  " 

Hector  went  forth  from  the  house.  In  the  street  he  met 
a  friend.  It  was  Joseph.  Hector  stared,  without  appear 
ing  to  recognize  him. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Joseph,  "  how  haggard  you 
look  !  What  has  happened  ?  See,  I  have  borrowed  the 
money ;  I  was  on  my  way  to  find  you." 

"You  are  kind,  Joseph,  but  there  is  a  trouble  which 
money  will  not  heal !  " 

"  Who  knows  ?  Come  to  my  office.  There's  no  telling 
what  money  can  do.  Give  me  your  case,  and  trust  to  me 
for  the  result." 

"  Ah,  Joseph,  had  I  charged  you  with  it  in  time  !  But  it 
was  too  sacred.  And  now  it  is  too  late !  And  while  I  am 
here,  wasting  time  and  strength,  there  are  those  at  home 
dying  of  despair  in  my  absence ! " 


THE  INUNDATION  333 


XXXVI 

THE    INUNDATION 

IT  was  about  an  hour  after  Mr.  Jackwood's  departure 
from  the  stack,  that  Charlotte  had  observed  a  change  in 
the  storm.  The  wind  went  down ;  and  the  rain,  which  had 
all  the  evening  kept  up  an  incessant  pelting  and  dripping, 
began  to  pour  in  torrents.  Every  other  sound  was  lost  in 
its  wild  rush  and  roar.  It  fell  in  this  way  for  hours,  until 
her  spirit,  lulled  by  the  solemn  monotony,  forgot  its  pains, 
and  sank  into  the  oblivion  of  sleep. 

She  was  aroused  by  startling  sounds  in  the  night.  She 
crept  to  the  opening  of  her  retreat,  and  looked  out.  The 
intense  darkness  had  given  place  to  a  faint  grayish  glim 
mer  in  the  sky ;  but  it  was  raining  still,  although  less 
violently  than  before.  The  sounds  were  repeated. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  Ho,  ho  !  "  Two  strange,  prolonged,  inhuman 
cries  !  Then  Charlotte  heard  footsteps  plashing  in  the 
water  which  covered  the  meadow,  and  caught  a  momentary 
glimpse  of  a  dim,  ghost-like  figure  moving  by  the  stack. 
It  passed  from  sight ;  and  the  plashing  of  footsteps  be 
came  lost  in  the  spattering  and  bubbling  of  the  rain. 
Then  again,  at  a  distance,  after  a  long  pause,  the  shouts 
arose,  and  died  away  in  a  long,  plaintive,  desolate  wail. 

"  Ho,  ho  !     Ho,  ho  —  o  —  o  —  o !  " 

Faint  echoes  came  from  the  sullen  hills ;  and  the  rainy 
silence  followed.  Charlotte  felt  .an  unaccountable  impulse 
to  leave  her  retreat,  and  go  wandering  up  and  down  in  the 
night  and  storm,  uttering  her  soul  in  cries,  like  the  mys 
terious  being  that  had  passed.  Her  sufferings  of  body  and 


33-1  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

mind  had  sent  the  flame  of  fever  into  her  blood,  and  in  her 
sleep  a  light  delirium  had  surprised  her  brain. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  Ho,  ho  —  o  —  o —  o  !  "  sounded  the  cries 
again,  fainter  and  farther  off,  in  the  night. 

She  climbed  over  the  wet  hay  at  the  mouth  of  the  close 
and  heated  cell,  and  reached  forth  her  hand  towards  the 
ground.  It  was  plunged  to  the  wrist  in  an  icy  pool.  The 
cold  storm  beat  upon  her  face  and  neck.  Chilled  by  the 
shock,  she  withdrew  beneath  the  shelter,  and  tried  once 
more  to  sleep.  But  the  air  was  stifling.  Her  flesh  burned 
with  the  fever ;  her  temples  ached  with  dull,  heavy  pains. 
In  the  anguish  and  despair  of  her  state,  she  threw  herself 
once  more  upon  the  wet  hay,  moaning,  with  face  and  arms 
and  breast  exposed  to  the  rain.  The  bath  revived  her. 
Eaising  herself  upon  her  arm,  she  perceived  that  her  hair 
was  dripping  wet.  It  had  been  drenched  in  the  pool. 
She  put  out  her  hand  again,  and  discovered,  to  her  conster 
nation,  that  the  water  was  rising  round  the  stack,  and 
creeping,  creeping,  slowly  and  steadily  into  her  retreat. 

Her  consciousness  was  now  fully  restored.  She  held  her 
breath,  listening  intently,  and  gazing  out  into  the  darkness. 
The  gale  had  risen  again ;  the  storm  lashed  the  stack ;  and 
all  around  the  rain  gurgled  and  murmured.  For  some 
time  she  had  been  half  conscious  of  hearing  a  faint  roar  in 
the  distance.  It  approached,  and  grew  distinct ;  and  now 
her  mind  was  alert  to  comprehend  the  mysterious  noise. 
It  seemed  at  first  like  a  mighty  wind  pouring  through 
forests  of  reeling  and  crashing  trees.  Sharp  and  clear 
reports,  like  thunder-claps,  were  mingled  with  the  roar. 
But  the  noise  came  from  up  the  valley,  where  there  were 
no  woods ;  and  the  peals  cracked  and  echoed  along  the 
ground. 

Then  it  seemed  as  though  an  earthquake  were  driving 
its  plough,  with  whirlwind  and  thunder,  through  the  valley. 
Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  din.  Charlotte  stood  out  in 
the  storm,  and,  clinging  to  the  fence,  beheld  a  glimmer  and 


THE  INUNDATION  335 

a  flash,  as  of  rolling  snow  and  foam.  It  came  down  the 
valley  in  the  track  of  the  riving  thunder.  And  now  the 
sounds  resolved  themselves  into  the  splitting  and  crashing 
of  ice,  and  the  impetuous  rush  of  waters.  The  creek  was 
breaking  up,  and  a  flood  was  inundating  the  valley. 

The  convulsion  passed;  the  din  and  detonation  echoed 
down  the  stream  ;  but  already  the  stack  was  surrounded 
by  billows.  They  dashed  through  the  fence,  and  leaped 
up,  drenching  Charlotte's  feet,  as  she  endeavored  to  climb 
beyond  their  reach.  The  flood  rose  rapidly ;  the  fence  was 
low ;  and,  in  the  extremity  of  fear,  she  got  upon  the  shed. 
The  sheep  were  beneath,  bleating  piteously,  and  swimming 
around  the  stack.  The  steers  had  run  out  frantically  at 
the  approach  of  the  inundation ;  and  now,  as  the  ingulfing 
waves  overtook  them,  their  bellowings  of  brute  terror 
sounded  dismally  above  the  roar. 

All  this  had  passed  in  a  brief  space  of  time ;  and  now 
Charlotte  found  herself  alone  upon  a  frail  and  insecure 
structure,  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness  of  waters.  Masses 
and  fragments  of  ice  and  snow  went  drifting  by  in  the 
night.  Some  of  these  struck  the  posts  that  supported  the 
shed,  and  made  it  tremble  and  creak  beneath  her  weight. 
The  fence,  meanwhile,  went  to  pieces,  the  rails  floating  off, 
one  by  one,  in  the  current. 

And  now  all  the  stories  she  had  heard  of  freshets  in  the 
valley,  that  came  sweeping  away  bridges  and  flocks  and 
herds,  recurred  to  her  imagination  with  exaggerated  terrors. 
She  remembered  that  Mr.  Jackwood  had  related  many  of 
these,  always  boasting  that,  thanks  to  his  superior  fore 
thought,  he  had  never  yet  lost  either  horse  or  horned- 
beast  or  sheep.  Why  had  he,  who  was  so  versed  in  signs 
and  changes  of  the  weather,  forgotten  himself  upon  that 
night,  of  all  nights,  and  left  her  there  to  perish  ?  Up  to 
tliis  hour  she  had  been  dumb  ;  but  now  the  fear  and  delir 
ium  of  her  soul  found  expression  in  a  long,  piercing  cry. 

A  burst  of  wild  laughter  answered  from  the  stream.     She 


336  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

gazed  in  the  direction  of  the  shout,  and  perceived  a  dark 
shape  drifting  by  upon  a  cake  of  ice.  With  a  shudder  of 
horror  she  remembered  the  cries  she  had  previously  heard, 
and  leaned  forward  eagerly  to  watch  the  floating  mass. 

"  Hurra  !  hurra !  "  shouted  the  mysterious  being,  as  if  he 
had  been  the  demon  of  the  flood. 

"  Edward  !  "  shrieked  Charlotte. 

The  shape  rose  up  to  the  stature  of  a  man,  dimly  dis 
cerned  in  the  darkness,  and  began  to  leap  with  grotesque 
gestures  upon  the  ice. 

"  Edward  !  Edward  !  "  implored  Charlotte. 

He  reached  forth  his  arms  ;  a  cry  of  recognition,  of  joy, 
came  from  the  flood.  But  suddenly  there  was  a  dull  ex 
plosion,  the  ice  went  asunder,  and  the  shape  disappeared 
amid  the  agitated  fragments.  Two  or  three  strangled 
cries,  a  little  bubbling  and  splashing ;  then  the  waters 
swept  on,  and  the  ice  drifted  away  in  the  darkness. 


Aroused  by  the  sounds  in  the  valley,  Mr.  Jackwood 
rushed  out,  Dickson  still  keeping  doggedly  by  his  side. 
Abimlech  followed,  buttoning  his  jacket  by  the  way. 

"  Give  us  a  helpin'  hand ! "  shouted  the  farmer,  throwing 
open  the  barn-doors.  He  seized  the  old,  flat-bottomed  boat, 
that  was  housed  there  for  the  winter,  and  dragged  it  from 
its  place.  "  To  the  crick  !  " 

"  If  it's  for  that  gal,"  cried  Dickson,  "  say  the  word,  and 
I'm  yer  man  !  " 

"  Stand  away  !  "  said  the  farmer,  through  his  teeth  ;  and 
alone,  by  main  force,  he  dragged  the  boat  to  the  edge  of 
the  flood.  "  Bring  a  pail  or  suthin,  Bim'lech  !  Where's 
the  oars  ? "  The  oars  were  found  ;  Abimelech  came  run 
ning  with  a  dipper  to  bail  with ;  Mrs.  Jackwood  brought 
the  lantern  ;  and  the  boat  was  launched  in  the  sweeping 
current.  "  Git  in,  Bim'lech  !  " 

"  The  ol'  thing  '11  leak  like  a  sieve  ! "  said  the  boy,  as  he 
scrambled  aboard. 


THE  INUNDATION  337 

Mr.  Jackwood  was  about  to  follow,  when  Dickson 
stepped  in  before  him. 

"  Git  out  o'  there  !  "  exclaimed  the  farmer  fiercely. 

Dickson  possessed  himself  of  the  oars.  "  I  reck'n  't  '11 
be  as  wrell  for  me  to  keep  you  company ;  I  feel  an  interest 
in  that  gal." 

"  You've  done  enough  for  her,  and  for  us  too  !  Will  ye 
git  out  ?  We're  goin'  to  pick  up  the  drowudia'  sheep,  an' 
there  won't  be  room  !  " 

"  I'll  help  as  much  as  I'll  hender,  I  reck'n  ! "  retorted 
Dickson ;  and  the  lantern  shining  upon  his  face  showed 
it  dark  and  determined,  under  his  wide  hat-brim.  "  Come 
on.  I'm  a  powerful  hand  at  the  oars." 

Mr.  Jackwood  glanced  around.  Had  his  eye  fallen  upon 
any  sort  of  weapon,  the  impulse  that  prompted  him  to 
knock  the  villain  into  the  water  would  have  led  to  a 
struggle.  He  hesitated  but  a  moment,  however.  Delay 
might  prove  fatal  to  Charlotte.  And  the  swift  thought 
flashed  through  his  brain,  that,  in  case  of  her  rescue  from 
the  flood,  it  would  still  be  time  to  deliver  her,  by  desperate 
means,  from  the  hands  of  the  kidnapper. 

"  Gi'  me  the  lantern  !  "  and,  taking  it  from  the  hands 
of  his  anxious  wife,  he  stepped  aboard,  and  shoved  clear  of 
the  bank. 

"  That's  the  wisest  thing  you  could  do,"  growled  Dick- 
son.  '•  It  '11  be  jest  my  cussed  luck  if  that  gal's  drownded ! 
I'm  certain  I  heard  yells  off  in  this  direction.  But  I'll 
have  the  wuth  of  her  out  o'  somebody,  you  may  make 
sure  o'  that  !  " 

"  She  might  git  on  the  cattle  shed,"  said  the  frightened 
Bim. 

"  Look  a'  yer,  boy  !  was  she  hid  anywheres  about  that 
stack  ?  I've  had  that  in  my  mind  ever  since  I  quit  it ;  and 
I'm  mad  now  that  it  didn't  burn  up  ! " 

"  Give  me  an  oar  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood. 

"  You  'tend  to  your  steerin'  !  ''  answered  Dickson.      He 


338  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

plied  the  oars  vigorously  with  his  powerful  arms.  Mr. 
Jackwood  sat  in  the  stern,  and,  with  a  piece  of  board  for 
a  rudder,  steered  out  upon  the  dark  and  whirling  flood. 
Abimelech,  in  the  bow,  held  the  light.  At  first  the  current 
carried  the  boat  rapidly  down  stream  ;  but,  having  crossed 
the  channel  of  the  creek,  they  came  upon  the  compari- 
tively  still  sheet  of  water  that  overspread  the  meadows. 

"  Bim'lech,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  hold  up  the  lantern  as 
high  as  you  can  reach  ! " 

The  boy  placed  it  on  his  head,  and  stood  up  in  the  bow ; 
the  light  shining  round  upon  the  wild,  desolate,  rain- 
plashed,  gloomy  waves. 

"  Sit  down  !  you'll  fall  !  "  cried  his  father. 

"  No,  I  won't ! "  said  Bim,  grasping  the  lantern  with  both 
hands.  "  O-o-o-o  !  see  that  big  junk  o'  ice  !  " 

"  How  fur  away  is  the  stack  ?  "  asked  Dickson. 

"  Hold  your  oars  a  minute  !  "  cried  the  farmer.  "  I 
do'no'  'xac'ly  where  we  be." 

"  There's  the  old  elm  !  "  cried  Abimelech.  "  An'  there's 
the  knoll  beyend  !  " 

"  Are  you  sure  on't  ?  "  Mr.  Jackwood  strained  his  eyes 
in  the  darkness.  "  I  guess  you're  right.  Go  ahead." 

Dickson  had  taken  advantage  of  the  pause  to  sound  the 
water  with  his  oar.  "  'Tain't  over  two  foot  deep  !  "  he  de 
clared  in  astonishment. 

"  It's  high  ground  here,"  said  the  farmer.  "  It's  lower 
where  the  stack  stands." 

"  Your  valley,  tucked  in  yer  'twixt  the  mountains,"  ob 
served  Dickson,  pulling  again  at  the  oars,  "  is  like  the 
bottom  of  an  almighty  big  tunn'l,  with  the  crick  for  the 
spout.  Any  man  that's  used  to  the  country  should  'ave 
known  better  than  to  leave  even  a  dumb  beast  down  yer 
in  sech  a  storm." 

Already  Mr.  Jackwood  was  suffering  unspeakable  trouble 
of  mind  on  Charlotte's  account ;  and  a  reproach  from  such 
a  source  filled  his  hot  heart  to  choking  fulness. 


THE  INUNDATION  339 

"  Who'd  V  knowed,"  cried  Bim,  "  'twas  goin'  to  rain  so 
like  gre't  guns  ?  See,  father  !  it's  turnin'  round  cold,  jest 
as  you  said  'twould  !  The  rain's  more'n  half  snow  now  !  " 

"  Be  still,  Bim'lech  !  "  said  the  farmer,  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Hello !  "  ejaculated  the  boy,  "  there's  the  ineader  fence. 
There's  only  jest  the  top-board  and  the  ends  o'  the  posts 
out  o'  the  water.  O-o-o-o  !  a  little  more,  an'  you'd  smashed 
right  into  it  !  " 

To  pass  the  fence,  it  was  necessary  to  drop  down  once 
more  towards  the  channel  of  the  creek.  They  had  not  pro 
ceeded  far  when  they  found  the  boards  torn  away,  and  the 
posts  broken  down.  It  was  at  the  spot  where  a  crushing 
mass  of  ice,  arrived  at  a  bend  in  the  stream,  had  overswept 
the  banks,  and  rushed  down  towards  the  stack.  As  they 
passed  the  fence,  Dickson  rested  on  his  oars,  and  shouted. 
No  reply. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  sheep  bl'at,"  said  Bim.  "  Father  J 
look  out  for  them  bushes  ! " 

"  Pull  away  !  "  cried  the  farmer. 

"  I  heard  something"  Dickson  declared.  "  The  stack 
can't  be  fur  off  now." 

"  There  !  "  exclaimed  Abinielech ;  "  that  was  a  sheep  ! 
It  bl'ated  agin  !  I  see  the  stack  !  " 

"  Your  eyes  are  better'n  mine,"  said  Dickson,  glancing 
over  his  shoulder.  "  I  see  somethin',  though,  out  thar  in 
the  dark." 

"  Why  don't  she  answer,  I  wonder  ?  If  she's  on  the 
shed,  I  should  think  she'd  see  the  light,  and  call  us,"  said 
Bim. 

"  Jest  my  luck  !  "  growled  Dickson.  "  It  makes  me  mad 
to  lose  a  gal  that  way  !  " 

"  Keep  your  light  out  o'  my  eyes !  "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood, 
as,  gazing  over  the  bow,  he  stared  in  the  direction  of  the 
gloomy  mass. 

"  Hadn't  I  better  be  bailin'  a  little  ?  "  asked  Abinielech, 
frightened.  "  The  boat's  'most  half  full  o'  water  !  " 


340  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Hold  your  lantern  ! "  said  his  father  sternly.  A  yellow 
glimmer  of  light  touched  the  stack.  The  shed  was  not  yet 
visible. 

"  We're  on  the  wrong  side  !  "  said  Bim.  "  How  did  that 
happen  ?  Oh  !  see  them  sheep  !  " 

The  boat  passed  the  stack,  and  came  around  under  its 
lee.  By  the  light  of  the  lantern,  a  number  of  sheep  could 
now  be  seen  huddling  together  in  the  eddies,  and  holding 
their  noses  above  water  against  the  side  of  the  stack.  As 
the  boat  approached,  one  of  them  was  seen  to  lose  its  hold, 
and,  after  a  struggle  to  regain  it,  fall  into  the  current,  and 
disappear.  It  passed  within  reach  of  Mr.  Jack  wood's  hand, 
but  his  eyes  were  fixed  elsewhere. 

"  Whar  is  your  shed,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  "  demanded 
Dickson. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Abimelech,  "father,  see!  it's  gone!  the 
shed  is  gone  !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  sprang  up  in  the  boat,  thrust  his  feet  in 
the  notches  left  by  the  roof  of  the  shed,  and  mounted  the 
stack.  It  was  his  last  hope.  But  no  Charlotte  was  there. 
Only  her  shawl,  which  he  found  freezing  fast  to  a  board, 
against  which  it  had  blown,  remained  as  a  memento  of 
the  night  of  terror  she  had  passed  in  that  fearful  spot. 

Dickson  was  not  satisfied  with  Mr.  Jackwood's  examina 
tion.  "  Here,  boy  ! "  said  he,  "  give  me  the  lantern,  and 
take  this  yer  oar.  Hold  it  so-fash'n,  and  keep  the  boat  up 
against  the  stack." 

Abimelech  obeyed  ;  and  Dickson  mounted  the  stack,  after 
the  farmer,  lantern  in  hand. 

"  Oh !  "  screamed  the  boy,  "  the  boat's  goin'  off,  and  I 
can't  help  it !  Father  !  come  !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  was  gazing  around  upon  the  waste  of 
waters,  in  a  state  of  stupefaction,  when  Abimelech' s  cries 
aroused  him. 

"  Reach  me  the  eend  o'  the  oar  ! "  he  exclaimed,  spring 
ing  to  the  side  of  the  the  stack. 


THE  INUNDATION  341 

"  Oh !  quick  ! "  cried  the  boy ;  "  hold  the  lantern,  you  man! " 

"  I've  got  ye  !  "  said  Mr.  Jack  wood.  "Keep  tight  holt !  " 
And  he  drew  the  boat  alongside. 

"  Why  didn't  ye  do  as  I  told  ye  ?  "  growled  Dickson. 
"The  curr'ut  pushed  the  boat  against  the  stack,  and  all 
you  had  to  do  wns  to  keep  the  bow  from  swinging  round. 
Are  ye  a  fool  ?  '' 

"  Darn  that  man ! "  said  Bim.  "  I  wish  he  was 
drownded  ! " 

"  Hush,  Bim'lecli  !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  stepping  into 
the  boat.  "  Gi'  me  the  oars." 

There  was  a  stern  despair  on  his  face  as  he  sounded  the 
water  about  the  opening  that  had  been  the  last  refuge  of 
the  lost  girl.  The  plunged  oar-blade  revealed  nothing  of 
her  fate.  Snowflakes  were  flying,  and  melting  on  his 
drenched  hat,  in  the  light  of  the  lantern  held  by  Dicksoii 
above.  With  a  sudden  resolution  the  farmer  lifted  his 
bowed  head,  and  pushed  off  with  the  oar. 

"  What  a'  ye  'bout  ?  "  demanded  Dickson,  hastily  de 
scending  the  slope.  ••  Come,  back  yer  !  Take  me  aboard  !" 

"I  got  to  look  out  for  them  'ere  lambs,"  said  Mr.  Jack- 
wood,  rowing  around  the  stack.  "  Hold  the  lantern  over 
on  this  side." 

Dickson  perceived  that  he  was  in  a  precarious  position, 
and  that  his  wisest  course  would  be  to  comply  with  the 
farmer's  request.  He  accordingly  climbed  over  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  stack,  and  held  the  light,  while  Mr. 
Jackwood  pulled  the  sheep,  one  after  another,  over  the 
bow  of  the  boat. 

"  There's  only  five  out  of  'leven,"  said  Bim.  "  But  I'm 
glad  there  ain't  no  more ;  we  should  sink.  Oh  !  the  water 
almost  come  over  the  side  then  !  " 

"  Here  !  ain't  ye  goin'  to  take  me  aboard  ?  "  asked  Dick- 
son,  with  increasing  alarm. 

"  Not  with  this  load,"  replied  the  farmer.  "I  told  ye 
there  wouldn't  be  room." 


342  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

"  Look  a'  yer  ! "  remonstrated  Dickson,  "  thar's  room 
enough  thar !  " 

"  I've  got  to  bail  like  anything  ! "  exclaimed  Bim,  plying 
the  dipper.  "  Don't  ye  go  back,  father  !  I'd  leave  him 
there,  —  I  would  ! " 

"  'Tend  to  your  bailin',  Bim'lech ! "  said  Mr.  Jackwood 
solemnly. 

"  Ain't  ye  comin'  ?  "  cried  Dickson.  "  Don't  leave  a 
feller  in  this  way,  now  !  Hain't  ye  got  no  human 
feelin's?" 

Mr.  Jackwood  made  no  reply,  but  rowed  steadily 
and  strongly  across  the  stream.  Dickson  roared  with 
wrath. 

"  He's  changed  his  tune,  hain't  he  ? "  said  Abimelech. 
"  He's  good  to  hold  the  lantern  ;  we  can  see  the  light,  and 
tell  where  we  be.  Hear  him  swear  ! " 

"Never  mind  him,"  answered  the  farmer.  "Look 
ahead,  there,  and  see  if  I'm  runnin'  into  anything." 

"  These  sheep  can't  stand  on  their  legs  ! "  said  Bim. 
"  They  lay  right  down  in  the  water,  and  I  hain't  hardly 
got  room  to  bail.  Say,  father,  ye  don't  think  Charlotte's 
got  drownded,  do  ye  ?  " 

"  Are  them  bushes  ahead,  there  ?  'Tend  to  what  I  tell 
ye!" 

u  We've  passed  all  the  bushes,  I  guess.  I  don't  see 
none.  I  bet  she  got  off  the  interval  somehow ;  /  could. 
Where  do  ye  s'pose  she's  gone  to  ?  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  rowed  steadily  until  the  boat  struck  the 
ground ;  then  stepping  ashore,  with  the  boy's  assistance  he 
drew  the  bow  up  out  of  water. 

"  You  won't  be  afraid,  will  ye,  if  I  leave  ye  to  take  care 
o'  the  lambs  ?  You  can  git  'em  up  to  the  barn  some  way, 
if  you  haf  to  take  one  't  a  time." 

"  Where  ye  goin'  ?  to  bring  him  from  the  stack  ?  "  asked 
Abimelech  timidly. 

"Not  jest  yit,"  replied  his  father. 


THE  INUNDATION  843 

"I  do'  wanter  stay  alone!"  exclaimed  the  boy.  "  Le' 
me  go  to  the  house  with  ye,  and  git  Phoebe  or  Rove  to 
come  and  help  with  the  lambs." 

"  Come  along,  then,"  said  the  farmer.  They  had 
emptied  the  water  out  of  the  boat,  leaving  the  sheep  in  it ; 
and,  having  taken  the  precaution  to  drag  it  a  few  feet 
farther  upon  the  snow,  they  set  out  for  the  house. 

"  Where  do  you  s'pose  Charlotte  is  ?  "  again  inquired  the 
boy,  keeping  close  to  his  father's  side.  "  Her  shawl  bein' 
on  the  side  of  the  stack,  shows  she'd  got  out  of  my  den ; 
she'd  'ave  got  out  of  that,  anyway,  when  she  felt  the  water 
risin'  in  it.  But  where  d'ye  s'pose  she  is  ?  " 

"  All  you've  got  to  do  is  to  git  the  lambs  up  ;  so  don't 
ax  no  more  questions,"  said  the  farmer. 

Arrived  at  the  barn,  he  bridled  a  horse,  and  took  him 
from  the  stable ;  then,  without  waiting  to  say  even  a  part 
ing  word  to  his  family,  he  mounted  at  the  gate,  and  rode 
away  in  the  darkness. 


344  NEIGHBOR  JACKW001) 


XXXVII 

RUMORS 

"  DAUGHTER/'  said  Squire  Greenwich,  crossing  his  legs 
and  saddling  his  spectacles  upon  his  knee,  "  this  Sabbath 
morning  appears  a  fitting  occasion,  and  we  will  proceed  to 
a  settlement."  The  smack  of  his  precise  lips  was  an  awful 
sound  to  poor  Etty.  She  came  forward,  trembling  and 
weeping. 

"The  child  is  down  sick  this  morning!"  interceded  the 
mother. 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich ! "  said  the  paternal  head,  "  your 
assistance  is  not  called  for.  Put  down  your  hands,  daugh 
ter."  Etty's  right  hand  dropped  by  her  side.  "  I  said, 
put  down  your  hands ! "  Down  went  the  left,  and  up 
went  the  right.  "  D-a-u-g-h-t-e-r  ! "  pronounced  the  squire's 
warning  voice.  After  a  violent  struggle  with  herself,  Etty 
uncovered  her  pale  face  and  inflamed  eyes.  "  Look  at  me, 
daughter ! " 

Etty  raised  a  timid  glance  to  her  father's  face ;  but  a 
glimpse  of  Robert's  threatening  visage  opposite  immediately 
put  her  out  of  countenance. 

"  The  poor  child  has  such  a  cold  in  her  head  and  eyes ! " 
interposed  the  mother. 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich  !  how  many  times  have  I  to  request 
that  you  will  not  interfere  with  my  discipline  ?  Daugh 
ter,  innocence  is  never  afraid  to  look  justice  in  the  face ; 
but  guilt  is  fearful  and  downcast.  We  cannot  proceed 
until  that  I  have  your  eye." 

A  painful  scene  followed,  during  which  the  affrighted  child 


HUM  oils  345 

endeavored  to  obey.  Her  father's  discipline  was  strict  as 
mathematics ;  and  she  could  no  more  escape  from  its  laws 
than  she  could  make  an  equilateral  triangle  with  four  sides. 

"  That  will  do/'  he  said,  at  length,  as,  with  a  powerful 
effort  of  will,  she  fixed  her  burning  gaze  upon  the  end  of 
his  nose.  "  Now  I  will  have  your  motive  for  visiting  Mr. 
Dunbury's  people,  without  permission." 

"  I  was  at  cousin  Charles's,  —  Robert  was  playing  chess 
with  cousin  Josephine,  —  nobody  minded  anything  about 
me ;  and,  as  I  wanted  to  see  Miss  Woods  "  —  Etty  looked 
down  again.  She  felt  Robert's  piercing  gaze,  and  forgot  to 
keep  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  paternal  nose. 

"  Go  on,  daughter.     Your  eye  ! " 

"  That  is  all.     I  am  sorry  I  disobeyed  you,  but " 

"  It  remains,"  said  the  paternal  head,  inhaling  a  pinch  of 
snuff,  "  that  you  should  show  sufficient  cause  for  taking  so 
unusual  and  unladylike  a  step.  We  might  imagine  circum 
stances  which,  by  their  apparent  necessity,  would  palliate 
the  offence,  and  abate  somewhat  of  the  punishment.  Have 
you  anything  of  that  sort  to  advance  ?  " 

Robert  looked  daggers  into  the  child's  very  soul,  and  she 
was  silent. 

"  Daughter,  hold  up  your  right  hand  ! " 

"  Don't  be  too  severe,  Mr.  Greenwich !  Consider,  the 
poor  child  is  down  sick  " 

"  Mrs.  Greenwich  !  " 

"  I  beg  pardon  !  "  and  Mrs.  Greenwich  shrank  again  into 
appropriate  insignificance. 

"  The  sentence  is  this  :  you,  daughter  Plenrietta,  for  the 
faults  committed  and  confessed  by  you,  are  condemned  to 
solitary  confinement  at  home  for  three  days  and  an  equal 
number  of  nights,  commencing  from  this  hour.  During 
this  time,  you  are  to  partake  of  no  nutriment  but  bread  and 
water,  and  speak  to  no  one  person  but  the  paternal  head. 
For  each  transgression  of  these  regulations,  one  day  shall 
be  added  to  your  term  of  punishment." 


346  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Etty  burst  into  tears.  The  punishment  seemed  greater 
than  she  could  bear. 

"  Still,  if  you  can  advance  any  sufficient  reason  for  walk 
ing  through  the  wet  snow  to  Mr.  Dunbury's  house,  and 
perilling  your  health,  I  shall  be  gratified  to  hear  it." 

Etty  gave  an  appealing  look  to  Robert.  He  knew  all ; 
for  on  returning  home  the  night  before,  and  telling  where 
she  had  been  and  what  she  had  seen,  he  had  seized  her  as 
an  eagle  a  lamb,  and  torn  out  the  heart  of  her  secret.  But 
he  was  merciless  ;  he  held  her  with  his  terrible  eye,  and 
opened  not  his  mouth.  She  would  not  have  wished  him  to 
convict  himself,  to  spare  her;  she  chose  to  suffer,  rather 
than  see  his  guilt  exposed  ;  but  she  felt  that  a  word  from 
him  might  soften  her  father's  severity,  and  turn  aside  the 
sharpness  of  the  penalties. 

"  You're  a  brave  girl  ! "  he  muttered,  passing  by  her ; 
"  only  go  through  with  it  as  you  have  begun  !  " 

He  stepped  to  the  door  to  admit  a  visitor.  It  was  cousin 
Charles  Creston,  a  chatty  little  man,  who  had  called  to  dis 
cuss  the  occurrences  which  —  to  quote  his  phrase  —  were 
agitating  the  whole  village  ! 

"Etty  brought  us  the  news  last  night,"  said  Eobert 
carelessly. 

"  Bless  you ! "  cried  the  chatty  little  man,  "  then  you 
haven't  heard  the  tragical  termination !  "  Eobert,  with  evi 
dent  alarm,  said  he  had  not.  "  It's  distressing.  I  dropped 
into  the  tavern  just  now,"  said  the  voluble  Charles  ;  "  the 
slave-hunters  had  just  come  in,  and  all  the  talk  was  about 
Charlotte's  being  drowned  last  night.  There  can't  be  any 
mistake,"  he  added  eagerly ;  "  for  one  of  the  men  passed 
the  night  at  Mr.  Jackwood's.  She  was  hid  somewhere 
about  the  stack,  when  the  creek  broke  up,  and  the  valley 
was  flooded." 

«  O  Robert ! "  burst  forth  Etty. 

"  One  day  more  added  to  the  nine,  my  daughter,"  pro 
nounced  the  paternal  head. 


EUMORS  347 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  Robert,  with  an  incredulous  air,  but  his 
face  grew  suddenly  pale.  "  I  don't  believe  the  story  !  If 
'twas  true,  the  men  wouldn't  be  so  ready  to  report  it." 

"  Why  not,  since  they  would  wish  to  give  their  version 
ilrst  ? "  cried  Mr.  Creston.  "  They  throw  all  the  blame 
upon  Mr.  Jack  wood ;  and  they  are  doing  all  they  can  to 
make  themselves  popular  by  treating  every  loafer  in  the 
village  who  will  drink  with  them.  But  'twon't  do ;  there's 
a  tremendous  excitement  against  them,  and  there's  talk 
that  they'll  get  tarred  and  feathered,  and  rode  out  of  town 
on  rails.  I'd  delight  to  see  it ! "  chuckled  Charles. 

"  Son  Robert !  "  called  the  squire,  —  Robert  had  seized 
his  hat,  —  "  where  are  you  going  ?  If  to  the  tavern,  listen 
to  the  paternal  counsel,  and  forbear.  Son  Robert,  do  you 
hear  ?  " 

Son  Robert  gave  no  heed.  "  Remember  !  "  he  muttered, 
as  he  passed  by  Etty's  chair.  He  left  the  house ;  hastened 
to  the  tavern ;  moved  for  a  few  minutes  amid  the  excited 
crowd ;  then,  mounting  a  horse,  galloped  down  the  splashy 
road,  with  his  fierce  eye  fixed  upon  the  lake  that  spread 
over  the  valley. 

Throwing  himself  from  the  saddle  at  Mr.  Jackwood's 
door,  he  knocked  for  admittance ;  but  Phcebe  and  Abime- 
lech  were  alone,  locked  up,  as  in  a  fortress.  Only  Rover's 
sharp  bark  answered  from  within.  Robert  walked  around 
to  the  back  door  ;  and  Phcebe,  observing  him  from  the  win 
dow,  ran,  with  a  fluttering  heart,  to  admit  him. 

"  Are  you  alone,  Phcebe  ? "  asked  Robert,  in  a  hollow 
voice. 

"  The  folks  have  gone  to  meeting;  but  Bim  is  here,"  re 
plied  Phoebe,  with  extreme  coldness  of  manner.  "  Come 
in,  —  if  you  like."  It  was  his  first  visit  since  his  desertion 
of  her,  some  months  before  ;  and  the  memory  of  her  wrongs 
swelled  up  within  her.  He  did  not  stop  to  flatter  her.  or 
to  excuse  himself,  but  broke  forth  at  once  with  inquiries 
for  Charlotte.  Phoebe  burst  into  tears. 


348  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  I'd  give  my  life,"  he  said,  —  and  remorse  and  despair 
were  gnawing  at  his  heart,  —  "  to  know  that  she  was  safe  ! 
She  was  an  angel,  Phoebe ;  and  she  was  your  best  friend." 

"  I  know  it  now  !  "  sobbed  Phoebe.  "  But  you  made  me 
believe  she  was  not  !  Why  did  you  ?  "  And  she  went  on  to 
tell  the  tragic  tale.  Robert's  soul  smote  him  as  he  lis 
tened;  and  when  it  was  finished,  without  a  word  he 
mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  back,  gnashing  his  teeth,  to 
the  village. 


Hector,  baffled  and  impatient,  was  waiting  in  Mobile 
with  the  greatest  anxiety  for  an  answer  to  his  telegraphic 
despatch.  Mrs.  Graves,  who  had  been  Charlotte's  friend, 
was  now  his.  On  the  evening  of  the  day  following  that  of 
his  transactions  with  Dr.  Tan  wood,  they  sat  together  in 
the  parlor  of  Mr.  CoplifPs  house.  In  the  midst  of  their 
conversation  Helen  entered,  and  taking  an  ottoman,  seated 
herself  at  their  feet. 

"I  haven't  told  you  about  the  ball,"  she  began,  in  her 
joyous  tones.  "  I  had  the  honor  of  dancing  with  Robinson 
Crusoe,  Sancho  Panza,  and  the  Wandering  Jew.  That 
saucy  Count  of  Monte  Cristo  had  the  impudence  to  offer 
me  his  hand  !  Do  you  remember  "  —  her  voice  changed, 
and  she  looked  up  with  glistening  eyes  into  Hector's  face 
—  "  how  often  I  used  to  sit  with  you  so,  a  year  ago,  and 
make  you  talk  to  me  ?  But  you  do  not  talk  to  me  any 
more  now ! " 

"  Ah,  Helen !  you  will  know  some  day  what  a  mountain 
rests  on  my  heart !  "  said  Hector. 

Helen  dropped  her  face  upon  her  cousin's  lap,  and  sat 
for  a  long  time  very  quiet  and  still;  but  at  length,  sad 
thoughts  stealing  over  her,  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  with  a 
bright  smile  shining  through  her  tears,  and  hurried  from 
the  room. 

"  Helen  is  a  good  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Graves,  with  thought- 


RUMORS  349 

ful  tenderness.  "Your  friend  Joseph  thinks  it  the  one  great 
mistake  of  your  life  that  you  did  not  marry  her." 

"  Oh,  Joseph  is  kind  !  Had  I  looked  only  for  beauty,  for 
wealth  and  honorable  connections,  even  for  a  gentle  and 
tender  heart,  Helen  would  have  been  everything  I  could 
desire.  But  what  are  all  these  attributes,  compared  with 
such  a  soul  as  —  I  am  very  weak,"  said  Hector,  faltering. 

"  No,  I  think  you  strong  !  Your  devotion  to  poor  Camille 
gives  me  an  inspiration,  as  when  I  read  of  heroic  deeds. 
In  my  experience  in  this  groping  world,  I  had  almost 
abandoned  the  hope  of  finding  a  man  who  could  penetrate 
with  the  clear  glance  of  truth  the  thick  walls  of  prejudice 
and  conventionality,  which  shut  us  out  from  the  realities 
of  existence.  This  appears  all  the  more  glorious  in  one 
who  possesses  a  great  power  over  the  human  heart,  for  evil 
or  for  good,  —  like  you." 

"  Oh,  could  I  but  feel  that  I  had  always  used  that  power 
for  good  ! "  said  Hector. 

A  sudden  spasm  convulsed  his  features.  "  She  calls  to 
me  !  "  he  said  faintly.  "Just  now  her  cry  of  anguish  shot 
through  me,  —  nothing  could  be  more  terribly  real  ! " 

The  door  opened  ;  he  looked  up  with  a  start,  as  Joseph 
Spalding  entered.  "  What  news  ?  " 

"  Have  you  heard  from  your  telegraphic  despatch  ? " 
asked  Joseph,  drawing  him  aside. 

"  No ;  but  you  have  something  for  me  ! "  cried  Hector. 

"  You  are  right,"  faltered  Joseph,  with  a  painfully  em 
barrassed  manner.  "  I  received  this  evening  a  request  to 
call  on  Dr.  Tan  wood." 

"  Speak  out  ! "  exclaimed  Hector.  "  What  has  been 
done  ?  " 

"  After  our  previous  interview,  you  can  imagine  that  a 
polite  note  from  the  doctor  took  me  by  surprise.  My  sus 
picions  were  aroused,  and  I  went  prepared  " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  omit  details,  and  come  to  the 
point !  " 


350  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  I  found  the  doctor  extremely  civil ;  he  brought  out  his 
decanter,  we  drank,  and  came  to  business,"  said  Joseph. 
"  On  reflection  he  had  concluded  to  accept  our  offer.  *  On 
reflection,'  said  I,  <  we  have  concluded  to  withdraw  it.' " 

«  Withdraw  it  ?  "  echoed  Hector. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Joseph ;  "  for  I  was  sure  that  if  he 
would  take  any  sum,  he  would  take  less." 

"  What  have  you  there  ?  "  demanded  Hector.  "  A  letter 
—  for  me  !  " 

"You  shall  have  it  presently,"  remonstrated  Joseph, 
more  and  more  troubled ;  "  but  hear  my  story ! " 

"  Give  it  me  ! "  cried  Hector,  alarmed  and  impatient. 
There  was  a  struggle,  and  he  seized  it.  Mrs.  Graves  ran 
to  Joseph,  who  gave  her  an  appealing  look. 

"  It  will  kill  him  !  "  he  said.  "  There  is  a  telegraphic 
despatch." 

«  From  Camille  ?  " 

"  From  the  hunters  of  Camille  ;  it  came  to  Dr.  Tan  wood. 
It  is  terrible  !  Hector  !  "  said  Joseph. 

"  Drowned  ! "  gasped  Hector,  clutching  the  paper  with  a 
gesture  of  wild  despair.  "They  have  killed  her!"  He 
tore  away  from  his  friends,  and  rushed  out  in  the  direction 
of  Dr.  Tanwood's  house,  furious  to  know  the  truth,  and  to 
confront  the  author  of  his  calamity.  Joseph  ran  after 
him  ;  but  neither  force  nor  entreaty  could  restrain  him. 
Fierce  and  rapid  strides  brought  him  to  the  doctor's  door  ; 
Joseph  still  clinging  to  his  arm,  and  urging  unheeded  words 
of  counsel  and  consolation. 

The  doctor  was  gone  from  home. 


ME.    JRUKELY'S   GREAT  SERMON  351 


XXXVIII 

MR.  RUKELY'S  GREAT  SERMON 

MR.  RUKELY  had  been  all  the  week  engaged  in  prepar 
ing  his  great  sermon  on  the  "  Duties  of  Christian  Citizens 
in  the  Present  Crisis ;  "  a  theme  adjudged  highly  appro 
priate  to  be  considered  on  the  advent  of  the  New  Year. 
No  other  discourse  he  had  ever  written  had  cost  him  so 
much  labor  as  this.  On  Saturday  night  it  was  finished. 
But  the  young  minister's  excited  brain  would  not  let  him 
sleep ;  and  towards  morning  he  lay  thinking  of  what  he  had 
written,  and  imagining  the  effect  it  would  produce  upon 
his  congregation,  until  he  felt  an  irresistible  impulse  to  get 
up,  strike  a  light,  and  read  over  certain  passages,  which 
contained  the  strong  and  eloquent  points  of  the  sermon. 
His  movements  awakened  his  wife. 

"  Don't  be  disturbed,  my  dear/'  said  he.  "  I  am  going  to 
write  a  little." 

Bertha,  languidly  :"  I  thought  your  sermon  was  finished." 

Mr.  Rukely,  rubbing  a  match  :  "  It  is,  my  dear.  But 
there  are  one  or  two  things  I  want  to  alter." 

Bertha,  rubbing  her  eyes  :  "  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
better  it.  What  you  read  to  me  last  night  seemed  as  good 
as  it  could  be." 

"  If  I  remember  rightly,  it  sent  you  to  sleep,  my  dear." 

"  It  wasn't  the  sermon,  'twas  the  rain.  What  a  storm 
we  have  had  !  I  am  afraid  you  won't  see  so  large  a  con 
gregation  to-day  as  you  expected." 

Mr.  Rukely,  with  his  fifth  match  :  "  The  people  are  look 
ing  for  my  sermon  on  the  New  Year ;  and  I  think  there 


352  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

will  be  a  pretty  general  turn-out  to  hear  it,  unless  the  roads 
should  be  too  bad.  There  is  a  lively  interest  in  the  church 
to  know  what  view  I  take  of  the  subject.  It  is  generally 
supposed  that " 

"  You'll  burn  your  fingers  !  "  cried  Bertha. 

"  I  hope  not,"  replied  Mr.  Rukely,  with  a  placid  smile, 
dropping  the  match.  "  Where  is  the  lamp  ?  " 

"  You  must  have  left  it  in  the  other  room,  where  you 
were  writing." 

In  ten  minutes  Bertha  was  once  more  sleeping  soundly, 
while  the  young  minister  corrected  and  interlined  passages 
in  his  sermon  by  the  sitting-room  stove.  He  read  aloud  to 
himself.  "  The  great  danger  consists  in  taking  narrow  and 
sectional  views  of  a  subject  which  should  only  be  regarded 
in  a  broad  national  light.  Let  us  remember  that  the 
interests  and  safety  of  the  country  are  at  stake.  If  we 
would  preserve  intact  the  noble  heritage  bequeathed  us  by 
the  fathers  of  American  independence,  we  must  listen  to 
the  dictates  of  an  expanded  and  lofty  patriotism,  and  suffer 
no  Northern  or  Southern  prejudices  to  sully  the  bright " 

Mr.  Rukely  thought  he  heard  a  voice.  "  Did  you  speak, 
my  dear  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  called  me,"  said  Bertha,  half  awake. 

"  I  was  reading,"  replied  Mr.  Eukely ;  "  I  had  forgotten 
that  I  was  not  in  the  pulpit.  If  you  would  like  to  hear 
me,  I  will  leave  the  door  open." 

"  Certainly,"  said  poor  Bertha. 

"Tell  me,"  added  her  husband,  "if  you  observe  any 
expression  that  will  be  liable  to  misconstruction.  It  is  an 
extremely  delicate  subject,  and  every  statement  should  be 
worded  with  care.  Watch  closely." 

Bertha  promised,  and  Mr.  Eukely  resumed  his  reading. 
Having  finished  a  passage,  he  called  for  her  criticisms. 
"To  tell  the  truth,"  said  Bertha,  arousing  herself,  "my 
mind  was  wandering  again.  Do  I  understand  that  we  are 
not  to  protect  a  fugitive  ?  " 


ME.   RUKELY 'S   GREAT  SERMON  353 

"  Is  it  not  just  ? "  cried  the  minister.  "  Have  we  a 
right  to  peril  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  a  nation,  by 
espousing  the  cause  of  one  man,  against  the  laws  made  to 
protect  and  regulate  all  ?  " 

"  It  is  clear,"  answered  Bertha,  "  we  have  no  such  right." 
And  she  fell  again  into  a  light  slumber,  while  her  husband 
went  on  with  his  reading.  Having  completed  another 
strong  passage,  "  Is  not  that  argument  conclusive  ?  "  he 
asked  triumphantly. 

Bertha,  starting  :  "  Entirely  so  !  —  but  —  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  have  fully  grasped  the  idea.  Will  you  read  the  last 
few  sentences  again  ?  " 

Mr.  Rukely  complied  readily.  But,  in  the  midst  of  a  lofty 
and  eloquent  strain,  he  was  disagreeably  interrupted  by  a 
noise  from  the  kitchen. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  cried  Bertha. 

"  Some  person  at  the  back  door.  I  wonder  who  can  be 
stirring  at  this  hour  ?  " 

"  Sunday  morning  too  !  "  said  Bertha. 

The  minister  wrapped  his  morning-gown  about  him,  and, 
stepping  into  the  kitchen,  pushed  back  the  bolt,  and  turned 
the  key  in  the  lock.  The  day  had  scarcely  dawned.  It 
was  snowing  fast.  A  man  stood  out  in  the  storm,  support 
ing  a  human  figure  upon  a  horse. 

"  Make  way,  Mr.  Rukely  !  "  said  the  man.  "  Tain't  no 
time  for  words,  an'  I'll  ask  pardon  for  intrudin'  some  other 
time."  As  he  spoke,  he  suffered  the  figure  to  sink  upon 
his  shoulder ;  then  clasping  it  in  his  arms,  he  bore  it  past 
the  astonished  minister  into  the  house. 

"  What  is  the  trouble  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Rukely. 

"  The  fust  thing,  help  me  git  this  'ere  poor  gal  to  a  fire ! " 
said  the  man. 

"  This  way  ! "  exclaimed  the  minister,  throwing  open  the 
sitting-room  door.  "  Here,  sir  !  Wait  a  minute  !  "  He 
wheeled  the  sofa  near  the  stove,  and  assisted  him  to  place 
his  burden  upon  it.  "  What  has  happened  to  her  ?  "  put- 


354  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

ting  back  the  girl's  wet  hair,  and  arranging  the  cushion 
beneath  her  head.  "  Good  heavens  !  Charlotte  Woods  !  " 

"  She's  ben  drownded,  an'  then  'most  froze  to  death ! 
Where's  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Bertha !  "  cried  Mr.  Rukely. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Did  you  say  Charlotte  ? "  articulated 
Bertha,  rushing  half  dressed  from  the  bedchamber. 
"  Drowned  ?  " 

She  flew  to  Charlotte's  side,  and  bent  over  her,  pressing 
her  temples  with  a  frightened,  eager  gaze.  "  Charlotte  ! 
where  have  you  been?  What  is  the  matter,  Mr.  Jack- 
wood  ?  "  she  demanded  wildly. 

Charlotte  lay  still  and  deathly  pale  in  her  dark,  drenched 
garments  and  clinging  hair,  her  eyelashes  drooping,  and 
her  livid  lips  apart,  with  an  expression  of  suffering 
past  the  power  of  speech,  until  she  was  roused  by  her 
friend's  touch  and  voice.  Then  she  partly  opened  her 
eyes,  murmured  faintly,  "  Bertha !  0  Bertha ! "  with  a 
shuddering  gasp,  and  with  a  feeble,  convulsive  movement 
clutched  the  arm  that  was  thrown  about  her. 

"  'Twould  be  a  long  story  ;  we'd  better  be  gittin'  her  dry 
an'  warm  fust,"  said  the  farmer.  "  Look  !  the  poor  child 
had  only  one  shoe  on ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  a  breaking  voice. 

"  0  Charlotte !  Charlotte ! "  Bertha  kept  saying,  as  she 
hastened  to  strip  the  wet,  cold  feet,  and  warm  them  at  her 
bosom.  "  Where  have  you  been  ?  0  Charlotte  !  " 

"  Be  calm,  my  dear  !  "  remarked  Mr.  Eukely.  "  I  will 
call  Matilda  "- 

"  Who  is  Matildy  ?  "  interrupted  Mr.  Jackwood. 

"  Matilda  Fosdick,  who  is  living  with  us/'  said  Bertha. 

"  Livin'  with  you  ?  "  echoed  the  farmer.  "  That's  bad  ! 
But  she  can  keep  a  secret,  can't  she,  when  a  human  critter's 
life  depends  on't  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  cried  Bertha. 

"  You  hain't  heard  nothin',  then,  o'  what  happened  up  to 
Mr.  Dunbury's  last  night  ?  " 


MR.    RUKELY'S   GREAT  SERMON  355 

"  We  have  heard  nothing  !  " 

"  Never  mind ;  you'll  hear  quick  enough  !  If  Matildy 
is  a  gal  to  be  trusted,  call  her  up.  She'd  haf  to  know  Cha'- 
lotte  was  in  the  house,  some  time  or  'uother,  I  s'pose.  The 
fust  thing  to  be  thought  on  is  to  git  dry  clo's  on  to  her." 

"Help  me  roll  the  sofa  into  the  bedroom,"  cried  Ber 
tha.  "I  can  undress  her  and  put  her  into  my  bed." 

"  We'd  better  call  the  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Kukely.  "  He 
is  a  trustworthy  man,  and  if  there's  any  necessity  for  con 
cealment  " 

"  We'll  talk  about  that,"  said  Mr.  Jack  wood,  "  arter- 
wards."  He  assisted  in  wheeling  the  sofa  into  the  bed 
room,  and,  leaving  Charlotte  in  Bertha's  charge,  took  Mr. 
Eukely  aside.  "  You're  a  man,"  said  he  earnestly,  "  't  I 
respect  above  all  others ;  for  you've  got  talents  an'  larnin', 
an',  more  'n  all  that,  your  heart's  in  the  right  place.  What 
I  should  'a'  done  for  Cha'lotte,  if  't  hadn't  ben  for  you,  I 
do'no'.  Her  an'  your  wife's  old  friends  " 

"  Eor  mercy's  sake,"  interrupted  Mr.  Kukely,  "  tell  me 
what  the  trouble  is  !  " 

"I  do'no'  over-'n'-above  well,  myself,"  said  Mr.  Jack- 
wood.  "  It's  suthin  't  I  can't  realize  nor  believe ;  but,  as 
I  understand  it,  Cha'lotte's  a  fugitive,  an'  the  kinnabbers 
are  arter  her." 

"  A  fugitive  !"  echoed  the  astonished  minister. 

Mr.  Jackwood :  "  I  hain't  heard  her  say  nothin'  'bout 
it,"  with  a  glance  towards  the  bedroom,  "but  one  thing's 
sartiii  —  the  officers  are  arter  her— they've  ben  to  my 
house,  and  to  Mr.  Dun  bury 's  —  an'  she's  ben  out  all  night 
in  the  storm,  to  keep  away  from  'em." 

"  A  fugitive  !  Charlotte  Woods  !  "  repeated  Mr.  Eukely 
aghast. 

"  She  was  hid  in  a  stack,"  added  the  farmer;  "but  the 
crick  broke  up,  and  drownded  her  out.  She  got  up  on  the 
shed ;  but  that  was  put  there  arter  the  winter  set  in,  and 
the  ground  was  froze  ;  the  posts  wa'ii't  set  at  all,  and  the 


356  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

thaw  left  'em  loose,  so's  't  when  the  water  come  they 
washed  right  away.  As  good  luck  would  have  it,  the  ruf 
was  made  o'  stout  rails,  covered  with  boards  nailed  to  'em ; 
an'  we'd  kep'  the  snow  shovelled  off  all  winter.  I  tell  ye 
what!  it  gi'  me  a  start  I  sha'n't  git  over  in  a  hurry, 
when  we  went  out  there  in  a  boat,  an'  found  her  missiir. 
But  her  shawl  was  on  the  side  o'  the  stack,  and  suthin 
kinder  said  to  me,  '  That  never  could  got  there,  in  this 
world,  'ithout  she  was  on  the  shed,  an'  mabby  tryin'  to 
climb  up  onto  the  stack,  when  the  ruf  went  down.'  Then 
says  I,  '  I  made  that  'ere  ruf  myself,  anr  I  believe  it's  hild 
together ;  an'  if  't  has,  what's  the  reason  she  can't  be  swim- 
min'  on't,  like  a  raft  ?  '  I  thought  it  over  while  I  was 
gittiii'  the  lambs  into  the  boat ;  then  the  idee  come  to 
me,  't  if  I  was  to  take  a  hoss,  an'  ride  down  to  Osborne's 
Flats,  I  might  hear  suthin'  of  her.  There's  a  place  down 
there,  —  p'r'aps  you  don'  know,  —  't  makes  a  big,  shaller 
basin,  when  the  crick  rises  up  to  it ;  there's  al'ays  a  kind 
o'  whirlpool  there,  time  o'  freshets,  ivhere  flood-wood,  an' 
everything  o'  that  kind,  settles  in,  an'  swims  round,  some 
times  for  half  a  day,  'fore  't  goes  down  the  crick.  I 
knowed  the  road,  an'  could  find  the  flats  the  darkest  night 
with  a  hoss ;  but  I  felt  ticklish  about  vent'rin'  in  the 
boat.  So  I  jumped  on  ol'  Dan,  an'  started  off.  I  found  the 
goin'  dre'ful  bad ;  but  I  got  along  perty  well,  till  I  come 
to  the  Turnpike  Crossin'.  The  water  was  higher  'n  I'd 
ca'c'lated  on,  an',  to  git  to  the  flats,  I'd  haf  to  cross  the 
crick  somehow. 

"The  water  was  clean  over  the  road,  an'  Dan  didn't 
like  to  wade ;  but  I  put  sperit  into  him,  an'  we  got 
to  the  bridge.  The  deestrict's  built  a  famous  good,  high 
bridge  over  the  crossin' ;  an'  there  I  stopped  to  let  Dan 
breathe,  an'  to  look  round.  It  was  jest  beginnin'  to  be 
daylight,  an'  I  could  see  off  to'rds  the  flats ;  but  I  couldn't 
make  out  nothin',  an'  it  looked  so  awful  dreary  down  there, 
't  I  felt  sick,  an'  thought  'twas  no  use,  arter  all,  huntin'  in 


MR.    RUKELY'S   GREAT  SERMON  357 

sich  a  place  for  Cha'lotte.  But  suthin'  said,  '  Don't  give  up 
so/  an'  I  splashed  for'ard,  on  t'other  side  o'  the  bridge; 
when,  as  I  was  cheerin'  ol'  Dan,  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise, 
an'  stopped.  l  Hello  ! '  says  I.  '  Ma-a-a-a  ! '  says  suthin' 
over  a  knoll,  jest  above  me.  'Xothiii'  but  a  sheep,'  says 
I ;  '  but  I'm  blamed/  says  I,  '  if  it  didn't  sound,  for  all  the 
world,  like  one  o'  my  lambs  ! '  Then  I  looked  sharp,  an' 
see  suthin'  lodged  agin  the  knoll.  Wai,  sir,  'twas  that  shed- 
ruf,  an'  Cha'lotte  was  on  to  it,  holdin'  tight  to  some  bushes 
to  keep  from  floatin'  away  !  I  never  had  anything  come 
over  me  like  that !  But  the  danger  wa'n't  over  with 
yit ;  for,  if  Cha'lotte  was  to  le'  go  her  holt  o'  the  bushes, 
there  was  nothin'  to  hender  her  gittin'  into  the  main  cur 
rent  that  run  'neath  the  bridge.  'Twas  one  o'  the  maddest 
currents  I  ever  see  ;  an'  'twould  ben  a  mere  chance  if  the 
ruf  wa'n't  tore  to  pieces,  passin'  the  'butments.  t  Stick  to 
it,  Cha'lotte  ! '  says  I ;  '  it's  me  !  it's  your  friend  Jackwood/ 
says  I.  '  Don't  be  afraid  ! '  says  I. 

"  Dan  didn't  like  to  leave  the  turnpike,  but  he'd  ben 
in  the  water  up  to  his  breast  a  dozen  times  a'ready.  I 
thought  he  needn't  mind  goin'  a  little  deeper ;  so  1  put  in 
my  heels,  an'  swum  him  to  the  knoll.  I  got  holt  o'  the 
raft  jes'  as  Cha'lotte  gin  out ;  she  was  nigh-about  dead  when 
I  lifted  her  ashore.  But,  sir,  don't  ye  think,  all  this  time 
she  had  kep'  two  o'  them  'ere  lambs  from  drowndin' ! 
She'd  helped  'em  out  o'  the  water,  on  to  the  ruf,  when  the 
shed  fell,  —  for  they  couldn't  got  on  to  it  alone,  with  all 
their  swimmin',  —  an'  then  she'd  took  as  much  care  on  'em, 
arterwards,  as  if  there  wa'n't  no  danger  to  her,  and  all  she 
had  to  do  was  to  look  out  for  them  !  and  one  of  her  hands 
hurt  too  !  I  got  'em  on  to  the  knoll,  an'  then  lifted  her  on 
to  ol'  Dan.  Then  the  thing  on't  was  to  git  back  with  her  to 
the  turnpike.  But  I  was  perty  sartin  the  hoss  could  touch 
bottom,  an'  keep  his  nose  out  o'  water,  if  we  both  rode ; 
'twa'n't  fur,  anyway ;  so  I  mounted  behind  Cha'lotte,  an' 
drove  in.  He  is  a  dre'ful  kind  hoss,  ol'  Dan  is,  an'  he 


358  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

seemed  to  know  jes'  's  well  what  he  was  about  as  I  did;  for 
he  made  a  bee-line  to  the  turnpike,  and  went  as  stiddy  as 
a  steamboat ! 

"  Wai,  we  got  to  the  bridge ;  then  I  didn't  know  no  more 
what  to  do  'n  I  did  in  the  fust  place.  I  couldn't  take  Cha'- 
lotte  to  my  house,  nor  to  Mr.  Dunbury's,  for  the  kidnab- 
bers  are  as  thick  over  there  as  nine  cats  in  a  corn-basket. 
When  I  was  considerin'  on't,  I  happened  to  say,  '  We  ain't 
sich  a  terrible  ways  from  where  Mrs.  Ilukely  lives ;  she 
that  was  Berthy  Wing.  It's  in  the  north  village,'  says  I, 
1  right  down  opposite  the  flats.'  All  this  time  I  hardly 
knowed  whuther  she  was  alive  or  dead ;  she'd  only  said, 
two  or  three  times,  <  0  Mr.  Jackwood ! '  an'  laid  on  this 
'ere  arm,  jes'  like  a  child ;  but  when  I  said  '  Berthy  WingJ 
it  seemed  to  put  new  life  into  her  "  — 

"  Mr.  Kukely,"  whispered  Bertha,  at  the  bedroom  door, 
"  will  you  hand  me  that  blanket  ?  "  The  minister  took  a 
garment  that  was  heating  by  the  stove  and  passed  it  to  his 
wife. 

"  Wai,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  that's  the  long  and  short 
on't,  and  now  that  she's  safe  in  your  house,  I  feel  like  a 
new  man.  She's  ben  through  a  dre'ful  tough  night,  an'  she 
may  have  a  fit  o'  sickness  arter  it.  If  we  can  keep  the  kid- 
nabbers  away  till  she's  well  enough  to  be  got  off  to  Canady, 
that's  all  I  ask.  What  do  ye  think  ?  " 

"  I  think  —  I  am  in  a  dream ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Kukely. 
"  Charlotte  Woods  !  What  a  history  you  tell  me  !  Do  you 
think  she'll  be  safe  in  my  house  ?  " 

"  I've  an  idee  ! "  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  drying  his  trousers 
by  the  fire.  "  It  popped  into  my  head  as  I  was  comin' 
over  here  from  the  turnpike.  The  kidnabbers  '11  think  she's 
drownded  !  Don't  ye  see  ?  "  And  the  farmer  proceeded 
to  relate  his  experience  with  Dickson,  whom  he  had  left 
holding  the  lantern  at  the  stack.  The  inference  was,  that 
if  Charlotte  was  supposed  to  be  drowned,  the  kidnappers 
would  abandon  the  search. 


ME.   RUKELY  >S   GREAT  SERMON  359 

"  But  if  the  story  should  get  out  ?  "  suggested  Mr.  Rukely, 
in  his  bewilderment. 

"  Jest  make  sure  o'  'Tildy  Fosdick,  an'  I  don't  see  how 
it  anyways  can  ! "  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  For  my  part,  I 
sha'n't  let  on  to  my  own  family  't  Charlotte's  found.  Then 
where's  the  danger  ?  You  hain't  no  scruples  agin  keepin' 
her,  of  course  !  " 

"  No  scruples,  —  that  is,  the  laws  of  the  country  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  smote  the  palm  of  his  hand  with  his  fist, 
with  an  energy  that  made  the  other  start.  "I  —  I  tell  ye 
what !  "  cried  he,  in  a  determined  tone.  "  I  respect  the 
laws,  an'  I  don't  think  I'm  a  bad  citizen,  gen'ly  speakin'  ! 
I  don't  go  in  for  mobs  an'  linchin',  nuther  !  But,  come 
case  in  hand,  a  human  critter  is  o'  more  account  to  me  than 
all  the  laws  in  Christendom  !  '  As  ye  do  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  do  it  unto  me  ;  '  that's  my 
doctrine.  Christ  never  stopped  to  ask  whuther  'twas  lawful 
to  do  a  good  deed,  but  went  and  done  it  !  But,  excuse  me, 
—  you're  a  minister,  an'  you  know  better  about  them 
things  'n  I  do." 

Mr.  Rukely  grasped  the  farmer's  hand.  His  eyes  glis 
tened,  and  there  was  a  noble  emotion  in  his  face.  "  You 
can  depend  upon  me,"  said  he  fervently. 

"  God  bless  you,  sir  !  I  knowed  it  ! "  cried  Mr.  Jack- 
wood,  the  tears  coursing  down  his  weather-stained  cheek. 
"  When  there's  a  duty  to  be  done  to  a  feller-mortal,  you 
ain't  the  man  to  stop  an'  look  arter  the  consequences." 

"  Not  in  such  a  case,"  said  Mr.  Rukely.     "  I  find  " 
wringing  the  farmer's  hand  again  —  "  that  there's  a  differ 
ence  between  reasoning  from  the  intellect  and  acting  from 
the  heart." 

"  You  must  'a'  found  out  that  long  ago,  sence  you've 
begun  arly  to  preach  from  the  heart.  I  heard  one  o'  yer 
sarmons  once,  'twas  on  the  uses  o'  the  Sabbath  ;  an'  one 
thing  you  said  in  it  has  stuck  by  me  to  this  day.  You 
said,  (  Christ  is  a  law  unto  himself,  and  he  who  has  his 


360  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

spirit  within  him/  you  said,  '  can  do  no  wrong.'  That 
spirit  is  love,  ain't  it  ? "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood ;  "  'tain't 
policy ;  and  it  hain't  nothin'  to  do  with  compromises." 

"  True  ! "  said  Mr.  Kukely.  "  It  is  love,  and  with  it 
goes  faith;  and  with  faith,  earnestness  and  courage,  such 
as  yours !  " 

Mr.  Jackwood  brushed  away  the  moisture  from  his  eyes, 
and  held  the  minister's  hand  in  both  of  his.  "  I  hain't  no 
more  to  say ;  but  if  I  don't  come  down  an'  hear  you  preach 
to-day,  't  '11  be  because  I  can't  git  over !  I  must  be  goin' 
now  ;  my  folks  '11  be  consarned  about  me,  an'  I  ought  to  git 
away  f 'm  here  'fore  people  are  stirrin'.  I  only  want  to  say 
a  cheerin'  word  to  her,  then  I'm  off  !  " 

Bertha  had  packed  her  friend  away  in  the  warmest  kind 
of  a  nest ;  and  there  the  farmer  found  her,  unable  to  move 
hand  or  foot,  for  the  comforters  that  enveloped  her,  but 
not  unable  to  smile  a  faint  smile  of  affection  and  thanks 
upon  her  preserver.  "  Mr.  Eukely's  all  right!"  he  whis 
pered,  bending  over  her.  "  So  don't  worry  ;  you're  safe  !  " 

Charlotte  murmured  something  ;  the  farmer  did  not  hear 
the  words,  but  he  felt  their  meaning,  for  it  shone  gratefully 
in  her  countenance  ;  and,  turning  away  quickly,  he  called 
Bertha  and  her  husband. 

"  The  best  good-by  I  can  say  is  to  leave  her  in  your 
charge.  I'll  hear  from  ye  all  some  time  !  "  The  farmer's 
voice  was  stifled.  "  Wai,"  —  with  an  effort,  —  "  remember 
I'm  comin'  over  to  hear  you  preach  to-day  !  "  He  mounted 
his  horse  at  the  door,  and  rode  away  in  the  storm.  Then 
Mr.  Kukely  thought  of  his  great  sermon  lying  upon  the 
table,  and  of  Charlotte  lying  there  in  the  bedchamber  :  the 
one,  a  creature  of  his  brain,  a  tissue  of  ingenious  theories 
and  precepts  ;  the  other,  a  living  reality,  a  child  of  the 
one  loving  Father  ;  a  being  of  vital  breath,  affections,  as 
pirations,  and  an  immortal  soul. 

"  Will  you  see  if  the  water  for  that  brandy  is  hot  ?  " 
asked  Bertha,  from  the  bedchamber.  It  was  not  hot  j  and 


MB.   RU  KELT'S   GREAT  SERMON  361 

Mr.  Rukely,  glancing  furtively  towards  the  chamber,  took 
his  great  sermon  quietly  from  the  table,  and  thrust  it  into 
the  stove.  "  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  cried  his  wife. 

"  I  am  heating  the  water  for  the  brandy,  my  dear." 

"  That  was  your  sermon  ! "  exclaimed  the  astonished 
Bertha. 

"  My  sermon  ?  "  repeated  the  minister.  "  Well,  I  hope 
it  will  do  good  !  I  shall  preach  an  old  one  to-day ;  that 
one  on  the  uses  of  the  Sabbath,  which  you  must  remember, 
since  Mr.  Jack  wood  recalls  it  to  my  mind,  and  quotes  from 
it.  I  shall  preach  my  sermon  on  the  l  Duties  of  Christian 
Citizens  in  the  Present  Crisis '  next  Sunday." 

Mr.  Rukely  was  ordinarily  a  man  of  such  cool  temper 
and  calm  judgment,  that  Bertha,  who  had  never  known 
of  his  doing  an  impulsive  thing  in  all  his  life,  thought 
the  excitement  of  the  hour  must  have  unsettled  his  wits. 

"As  soon  as  you  have  leisure,"  said  he,  "  I  will  give  you 
reasons  for  what  I  have  done.  They  will  surprise  you 
more  than  the  action  itself." 

Bertha  administered  the  hot  brandy,  and  rubbed  Char 
lotte's  limbs  until  she  got  them  warm  ;  when,  the  patient 
appearing  to  sink  into  a  slumber,  she  left  her,  to  hear  her 
husband's  story.  Ah  !  if  there  was  a  difference  between 
writing  a  sermon  from  the  head  and  living  one  from  the 
heart,  so  was  there  between  hearing  one  with  the  ear  only, 
and  feeling  one  in  the  soul  !  Bertha  was  awake  now ; 
Bertha  no  longer  gave  a  cold  and  drowsy  approval  to  what 
she  heard  ;  Bertha,  whose  thoughtless  tongue,  like  many 
another  thoughtless  tongue,  had  said  yea  and  amen  to 
plausible  theories  a  half-hour  since,  astonished  her  hus 
band  by  the  energy  and  passion  with  which  she  espoused 
Charlotte's  cause. 

"  I  did  well,  then,"  said  he,  "  to  burn  the  sermon  !  " 

"I  only  know,"  replied  the  excited  Bertha,  "  that  a  thou 
sand  sermons  could  not  change  me  with  regard  to  Charlotte  ! 
What  shall  we  do  with  Matilda  ?  " 


362  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Matilda  could  not  be  kept  in  ignorance  if  she  remained 
in  the  house  ;  neither  could  her  services  be  well  dispensed 
with  at  that  time.  It  was  accordingly  agreed  that  the 
safest  way  would  be  to  confide  the  secret  to  her,  and  rely 
upon  her  fidelity.  She  was  called  from  her  chamber ;  and 
Mr.  Rukely  sat  by  Charlotte  while  Bertha,  in  the  other 
room,  awaited  the  girl's  appearance. 

Miss  Fosdick  came  down  with  her  hair  uncombed,  and 
her  dress  unhooked,  looking  ill-humored  and  sleepy. 
"  'Tain't  late,  after  all,"  she  said,  looking  at  the  clock. 
"  It's  Sunday  morning ;  I  thought  I  could  lay  abed." 
"  I  have  some  news  to  tell  you,"  replied  Bertha. 
«  Oh,  have  you  ?  What  is  it  about  ?  " 
"  You  know  Miss  Woods,  at  Mr.  Dunbury's  ?  " 
"  Oh,  I  know  of  her  ;  though  I'm  not  personally  ac 
quainted,"  replied  Matilda,  simpering.  "  People  say  Hec 
tor  is  paying  attention  to  her.  I  don't  care,  I'm  sure  ; 
though  I  might  have  been  in  her  place,  I  suppose.  You 
didn't  know,  perhaps,  that  Hector  come  for  me,  the  very 
day  he  found  Miss  Woods  at  your  house  ?  I'd  been  two 
terms  to  Kiltney ;  and  Mrs.  Dunbury  wanted  me  for  a 
companion.  I  should  have  gone,  only  you  know  I  ain't 
obleeged  to  go  out  for  a  living  ;  and  while  we  was  talking 
it  over,  Livie  and  Patry  made  such  a  fuss,  all  through  jeal 
ousy,  that  I  concluded  to  stay  to  home.  Well,  Miss  Woods 
went  in  my  place  ;  but  I  don't  care  —  she  is  welcome ; 
though,  if  I  had  taken  up  with  the  invitation,  who  knows 
what  might  have  happened  ?  'Tain't  as  though  I  was  in 
such  a  great  hurry  to  get  a  husband!  But  what  about 
her  ?  Are  they  going  to  be  married  ?  " 

"  Matilda,  it  is  very  sad  news  I  have  to  tell  you !  " 
Matilda,  brightening  :   "  Is  it  ?     I  am  dying  to  hear  !  " 
Here  Bertha,  deeply  affected,  told  the  story  of  Charlotte, 
yet  concealing  the  fact  that  she  was  at  that  moment  sleep 
ing  in  the   adjoining  chamber.     Matilda  could  not  suffi 
ciently  express  her  wonder  and  astonishment. 


ME.    EUKELY'S   GREAT  SERMON  363 

"  And  what  would  you  do,"  asked  Bertha,  "  if  she  should 
come  to  you,  and  you  could  help  her  escape  ?  " 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  Matilda  felt  a  secret  delight 
in  Charlotte's  misfortune.  But,  aside  from  the  natural 
envy  and  selfishness  of  her  disposition,  she  was  not  a  bad- 
hearted  girl ;  and  she  gave  the  answer  Bertha  desired  she 
would.  It  was  as  much  her  pride,  perhaps,  as  genuine  be 
nevolence,  that  would  have  been  gratified  in  rendering 
assistance  to  one  in  Charlotte's  position ;  but  Bertha  did 
not  stop  to  analyze  her  motives.  She  believed  her  sincere ; 
it  was  all  she  asked  ;  and  then  she  proceeded  to  unfold 
the  remainder  of  the  story. 

Charlotte,  meanwhile,  passed  from  the  sleep  or  stupor 
that  had  taken  possession  of  her  senses  into  the  pain  and 
delirium  of  fever.  Alarmed  by  her  restlessness  and  moan 
ing,  Mr.  Eukely  rapped  on  the  door  for  Bertha.  She  en 
tered  ;  Charlotte  appeared  to  awake,  and  she  spoke  to  her  ; 
but  the  poor  girl,  not  recognizing  her,  called  for  Hector  to 
give  her  a  glass  of  water. 

"  Here,  dear  Charlotte  !  "  said  Bertha,  raising  her  head, 
that  she  might  drink. 

"  No  !  "  The  sufferer  put  her  feebly  away.  "  Hector  ! 
where  is  he  ?  "  She  looked  wildly  about  the  room.  Bertha 
endeavored  to  pacify  her ;  but  she  no  longer  knew  her 
friends. 

"  I  dreamed,"  said  she,  "  that  somebody  was  drowned  in 
that  horrid  place  !  Tell  me,  was  it  Hector  ?  " 


364  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XXXIX 

HOW  mcKsoisr  TOOK  LEAVE 


ON  his  way  home,  Mr.  Jack  wood  met  Corny  riding  out 
of    Mr.    Dunbury's    yard.       "  You're    stirrin'    arly,    young 


"  Ya-a-s,"  drawled  Corny  ;  "  I  got  to  go  for  the  doctor." 

"  Is  Mis'  Dunbury  wus  agin  ?  " 

"  'Pears  so  ;  they  thought  she  was  dyin'  one  spell.  They 
ain't  nobody  to  hum  now  but  Bridget  an'  the  ol'  man. 
Hector's  gone  ;  an'  I  s'pose  ye  heard  about  Charlotte." 

"  If  you're  goin'  for  the  doctor/'  said  the  farmer,  "  I 
won't  hender.  I  guess  I'll  step  in  a  minute,  an'  see  if  my 
folks  can  be  of  any  sarvice." 

The  farmer  entered  at  the  kitchen  door,  which  was 
opened  by  Bridget.  "  Faix  !  "  cried  the  girl,  "  I  was  never 
so  glad  wid  the  sight  iv  a  Yankee  face  since  the  day  I  was 
barn !  They're  havin'  the  craziest  time  here  that  iver 
was  !  Not  a  wink  have  I  slept  ahl  the  whole  blissid  night, 
but  jist  a  little  this  marnin'.  I  was  woke  fifty  times  'fore 
the  peep  o'  day,  if  I  was  iver  a  once.  But  it's  not  a  strah 
I'd  be  carin'  for  it  ahl,  if  I  could  only  jist  cure  my  eyes 
wid  seein'  the  dear  sweet  face  of  Miss  Charlotte,  afther  ahl 
the  throuble  an'  fuss.  I  was  hopin'  ye'd  be  tellin'  ye'd 
seen  her.  An'  Misther  Edward,  ye've  seen  nothin'  of  him  ? 
He's  the  crazy  man,  that's  been  kickin'  up  ahl  the  row.  It 
begun  wid  his  coomin'  here  yistherday.  Och !  it  was  a 
shabby  thrick  he  played  me  up  in  the  woods  there,  lavin' 
me  to  get  the  hoss  around  afther  the  scoundrels  had  cotched 
us.  He  followed  'em  back  doon  the  river;  and  there  I 


HOW  DICKSON   TOOK  LEAVE  365 

worked,  a'most  alii  the  night,  tryin'  to  turn  the  cutter  in 
the  woods,  an'  backin'  the  hoss  out  o'  the  brush  an'  snow. 
Faix,  it  was  beginnin'  to  be  dark  an'  lonesome  up  there,  an' 
what  should  I  be  afther  doin',  but  lavin'  the  cutter  where 
it  stuck,  an'  ridin'  home  man-fashion,  wid  the  harness  for 
a  saddle  !  " 

"  \Vhere  is  yer  crazy  man  now  ?  "  inquired  the  farmer. 

"  I  l)alave  the  divil  has  him  carryiii'  him  off !  "  cried 
Bridget.  "  He  was  up  ahl  the  night,  wild  as  a  brindle  cat, 
an'  the  last  I  was  hearin'  on  him,  he  went  out  howlin'  in 
the  starm.  But  it's  little  I  throuble  mesilf  about  him  ; 
only  I  tha'ht  he  might  be  knowin'  what  had  coom  on  Miss 
Charlotte.  If  he'd  but  jist  be  bringin'  her  back,  then  lie 
might  go  to  Bedlam,  where  he  belongs,  —  bad  luck  to  him!" 


For  four  direful  hours  Dickson  kept  solitary  watch  upon 
the  stack.  During  this  time  he  saw  the  lantern  burn 
dimly,  then  go  out,  and  broad  day  dawn  upon  the  valley 
and  the  flood.  The  snow  ceased,  and  only  a  fine  hail  fell, 
mixed  with  sleet.  The  straw  of  the  stack  froze  into  brittle 
glass.  The  slave-hunter  knocked  his  feet  together,  and 
whipped  his  sides  with  his  hands ;  an  extraordinary  figure, 
on  that  far-off  lonely  mound  of  hay,  in  the  growing  light 
of  the  Sunday  morning.  He  tried  to  shelter  himself  with 
the  icy  boards  laid  over  the  broken  part  of  the  slope, 
which  furnished  daily  fodder  for  the  stock,  and  he  even 
burrowed  in  the  hay  itself.  But  all  his  efforts,  even  his 
sincere  and  vehement  swearing,  failed  to  keep  him  warm, 
or  to  restore  his  equanimity  of  mind. 

The  storm  had  ceased  altogether,  when  he  saw  Mr.  Jack- 
wood  walk  leisurely  across  the  fields  with  Abimlech  to  the 
water's  edge,  launch  the  boat,  and  row  out  towards  the 
stack. 

"  I  thought  per'aps  you'd  be  impatient  to  git  ashore," 
remarked  the  farmer. 

"  Any  time  !  "  muttered  Dickson,  through  his  teeth. 


366  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  If  he  waited  long  enough,  he  could  cross  on  the  ice," 
cried  Abimelech.  "  The  water's  all  scummed  over,  a'ready, 
where  it  don't  run  fast." 

"  Hush,  Bim'lech !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  Doin'  my 
pertiest,  I  couldn't  save  all  them  dumb  beasts.  I've  lost 
one  o'  the  likeliest  pair  o'  two-year-olds  ever  raised  in  the 
county.  The  lambs  I  don't  care  so  much  about,  though 
they'd  a'  ben  as  han'some  wethers  as  anybody's  come 
spring;  only  I  hate  to  think  how  they  must  'a'  suffered. 
Sorry  to  keep  you  waitin'." 

"  It's  all  right,"  growled  Dickson.  "  I  shall  have  my 
pay  for  this,  I  reck'n !  " 

"  Wai,  you'd  oughter  !  "  exclaimed  the  farmer.  "  A  man 
?t  puts  his  hand  to  your  kind  o'  business  desarves  to  git  his 
pay.  Don't  forgit  to  hand  down  that  'ere  lantern.  Then 
we'll  go  to  breakfast." 

As  the  wrathful  Dickson  paid  no  attention  to  the  re 
quest,  thinking  only  of  getting  his  feet  safely  planted  in 
the  boat,  Mr.  Jackwood  quietly  put  out  his  oar,  and  shoved 
off  from  the  stack. 

"We  can't  see  to  git  up  to  the  stack,  till  he  holds  the 
lantern,"  chuckled  Bim  facetiously. 

"Hush,  Binrlech!"  said  his  father.  "Thank  ye,"  as 
the  man,  stifling  his  wrath,  handed  down  the  lantern. 
"  Ye  hain't  seen  them  steers  nowheres,  have  ye  ? " 

"  I've  had  someth'n'  else  to  think  of,"  replied  Dickson 
savagely. 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  remarked  the  farmer.  "  It's  Sunday 
mornin',  an'  we'd  ought  all  on  us  to  be  thinkin'  o'  suthin' 
else.  -But  you  had  sich  a  chance  to  look  around,  up  there, 
I  thought  you  might  a'  seen  'em.  Per'aps  ye'd  like  to  take 
one  o'  these  oars,  to  warm  ye  ?  " 

Dickson  accepted  without  comment,  and  worked  his  pas 
sage.  After  a  long  silence,  he  inquired,  in  a  sinister  tone, 
what  value  the  farmer  set  upon  his  real  and  personal  estate. 

"  D'  ye  think  o'  buyin'  an'  settlin'  amongst  us  ?  *'  asked 


HO W  DICKSON   TOOK  LEAVE  367 

Mr.  Jackwood.  "  Took  with  our  manners  an'  customs, 
I  s'pose  ?  " 

"  I  only  asked  for  information,"  sneered  Dickson. 

"  Wai,  in  that  case,  though  'tis  Sunday,  I  hain't  no  objec 
tion  to  sayin'  't  the  vally  I  set  on  my  property,  live  stock, 
farmiii'  utensils,  an'  everything,  is  seven  thousan'  dollars, 
cash  on  the  nail.  I  don't  'spect  to  git  it  right  away,  but 
I  won't  part  with  an  acre  for  less." 

"  And  suppos'n'  you  should  wake  up,  some  fine  mornin', 
and  find  you  hadn't  no  farm,  nor  no  seven  thous'ii'  dollars, 
neither  ?  " 

"  Wai,  then  I  should  try  to  git  along  without  'em,  an'  be 
thankful  for  what  I  did  have." 

"  I'd  advise  ye  to  cultivate  that  feel'n',"  said  Dickson, 
"  aginst  the  time  comes  ;  an'  I  prophesy  't  won't  be  slow 
com'n'." 

"  That's  perty  talk  from  a  man  't  I've  invited  to  break 
fast  !  "  returned  the  farmer.  "  What  d'  ye  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  your  farm  ain't  any  too  big  to  cover  this 
little  business  o'  yourn,  ye  understand  ?  " 

"  What  business  ?  " 

"Harborin'  that  gal,  if  ye  relish  bein'  told  in  so  many 
words.  The  wuth  of  a  fine,  han'some  piece  o'  property, 
like  her,  ain't  less  than  fifteen  hundred  dollars.  She's  to 
be  paid  for,  to  begin  with.  Then,  say  nothin'  'bout  im 
prisonment,  there's  fines,  I  s'pose  ye  know,  that  '11  whittle 
what's  left  o'  yer  farm  down  to  a  mighty  small  figur' ; 
and  if  ye  stand  out  about  it,  the  law  '11  swaller  up  what's 
left.  I  hope  that's  a  consolash'n  for  the  loss  o'  yer  steers." 

"  It's  Sunday,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood,  in  a  low,  quiet  tone, 
after  a  thoughtful  pause,  "  an'  we  won't  talk  over  business, 
I  guess,  'fore  to-morrer.  But  I'll  tell  ye  one  thing :  though 
I  set  as  much  by  my  farm  as  any  man,  I  wouldn't  mind 
losin'  it  in  a  good  cause,  if  I  could  be  o'  sarvice  to  a  feller- 
critter  by  so  doin',  an'  save  'em  from  pirates  an'  man- 
stealers  like  you.  That  don't  make  out,  though,  't  I  had 


368  NEIGHBOR   JACK  WOOD 

any  hand  in  the  business  you  lay  to  my  charge,  as  I  see. 
If  that  'ere  poor  young  woman  is  drownded,  'tain't  on  my 
conscience  ;  an'  I  defy  ye  to  prove  the  fust  thing !  " 

"  That  '11  be  an  easy  matter,"  replied  Dickson.  "  I'm 
used  to  these  cases." 

"  Wai,  I  ain't,  an'  I'm  glad  on't !  "  said  Mr.  Jackwood. 
"  But  le's  drop  the  subject  for  to-day.  We'll  go  to  break 
fast  ;  then,  if  you  like,  you  can  ride  to  meetin'  with  me. 
I'm  goin'  over  to  the  north  village  ;  they've  got  a  famous 
good  minister  there,  an'  I  think  'twouldn't  do  you  no  harm 
to  hear  him  preach." 

Arrived  at  the  house,  Dickson  entered,  and  warmed  him 
self  and  dried  his  clothes  by  the  kitchen  fire.  His  friend 
Jones,  whom  he  had  expected  to  call  for  him  early  that 
morning,  had  not  yet  made  his  appearance  ;  and  he  was  but 
too  happy  to  avail  himself  of  the  farmer's  hospitality. 

"  I  s'pose,"  said  he,  "  you  won't  object  to  lend'n'  me  a 
hoss  for  a  couple  of  hours  ?  " 

"  I'll  give  ye  yer  breakfast,  and  yer  last  night's  loclgin' 
too,  for  that  matter ;  but  you'll  haf  to  excuse  me  if  I  don't 
lend  the  hoss,"  replied  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  I  think  too  much 
o'  my  ponies  for  that." 

"  D'  ye  fancy  'twouldn't  be  safe  ?  "  cried  Dickson.  « I 
reck'n  I'm  good  for  more'n  one  hoss." 

"  Per'aps  ;  but  I  should  want  suthin'  'sides  either  yer  busi 
ness  or  your  face  to  recommend  ye,  if  I  was  goiii'  to  trust 
ye  very  fur.  Shall  we  read  'fore  breakfast,  mother  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jackwood  said  she  thought  it  would  be  as  well,  as 
the  potatoes  were  not  quite  done.  The  farmer  accordingly 
took  down  the  big  Bible  from  the  shelf,  and  called  the 
children  to  join  in  the  reading. 

"  I  can't  read  this  morning,"  articulated  Phoebe,  whose 
eyes  were  red  and  swollen. 

"  Very  well ;  we'll  excuse  ye,"  replied  her  father.  "  But 
don't  cry  any  more,  child  ;  'twon't  do  no  good.  You  may 
begin,  Bim'lech.  If  you'd  like  to  look  over,"-  — to  Mr. 


HOW  DICKSON   TOOK  LEAVE  369 

Dickson,  —  "  I'd  like  to  have  ye.  Give  him  your  Testa 
ment,  Bim'lech." 

Dickson  declined  the  favor.  But  he  could  not  easily 
avoid  hearing  a  chapter  of  the  Evangel  of  St.  John,  and 
the  simple,  earnest  prayer  that  followed. 

The  farmer's  voice  was  tremulous  with  emotion ;  and 
when  he  prayed  that  God  would  soften  the  hearts  of  op 
pressors,  and  pour  out  his  tender  mercies  upon  all  who 
were  oppressed,  Phoebe  sobbed  aloud,  and  Dickson  could 
see  the  tears  run  silently  down  Mrs.  Jackwood's  face,  as 
she  knelt  beside  her  chair.  His  heart  must  have  been  of 
flint,  not  to  be  touched  by  the  scene.  He  glanced  darkly 
towards  the  door,  as  if  anxious  to  get  away  ;  but  with 
knotted  and  flushed  features,  writhing  in  his  chair,  he  sat 
and  heard  the  prayer  to  its  close. 

"  There's  somebody  come,"  said  Bim,  who  had  gone  to 
the  door  to  give  Rover  a  piece  of  pork  he  had  abstracted 
from  the  platter  when  his  mother's  back  was  turned. 

The  comer  proved  to  be  Jones.  Dickson  went  out  to 
meet  him,  and  they  talked  some  time  under  the  stoop. 

"Bim'leck,"  said  the  farmer,  '-tell  'em  to  put  their  hosses 
under  the  shed,  an'  come  in  an'  have  some  breakfast." 

"  I  wouldn't !  "  exclaimed  Biin  vindictively. 

"  Mind  !  "  said  his  father,  putting  down  his  foot. 

The  boy,  accordingly,  although  with  a  bad  grace,  de 
livered  the  message  ;  and,  after  some  hesitation,  the  men 
came  in.  Mrs.  Jackwood  put  on  an  additional  plate, 
flanked  with  a  knife  and  fork  ;  and  they  sat  down  and  ate 
meat  with  Christians.  When  they  had  made  a  hasty  meal, 
they  arose  to  go  ;  Dickson  offering  to  pay  the  farmer.  But 
Mr.  Jackwood  declined  his  money. 

"  Don't  you  never  take  pay  when  strangers  put  up  with 
ye  ?  "  asked  Dickson. 

"That's  neither  here  nor  there,"  replied  the  farmer. 
"  What  ye  have  o'  me,  I  give  ye.  I  neither  lend  nor  sell 
to  sich  as  you.  I've  told  ye  the  reason  why  I  won't  lend ; 


370  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOO1) 

if  ye  want  to  know  why  I  won't  sell,  it's  'cause  your 
money  's  arnt  in  a  bad  trade,  an'  I'd  ruther  have  nothin'  to 
do  with't." 

"  Say,  father !  "  cried  Abimelech,  after  the  men  were 
gone,  "  they  can't  git  yer  farm  away  from  ye,  can  they  ?  " 

"  You  may  be  sartin,"  said  the  farmer,  "  they  will  if  they 
can.  The  law  's  on  their  side  too,  I  s'pose.  But  I  ain't 
goin'  to  trouble  myself  'forehand.  I've  done  my  best, 
'cordin'  as  I  see  the  duty  set  afore  me  to  do  ;  an',  with  a 
clean  conscience,  I'll  wait  an'  see  what  comes  of  it  all." 

"  I  wouldn't  let  'em  have  it !  "  exclaimed  Bim  ;  "  I'd  sue 
'em." 

"  Bim'lech,"  returned  his  father,  "  I  never  sued  a  man, 
an'  I  never  was  sued.  But  we  won't  talk  about  that  now. 
I'm  goin'  to  take  your  mother  over  to  Mist'  Dunbury's,  an' 
goin'  from  there  to  meetin' ;  an'  you  can  go  with  me  or  stay 
to  hum  with  Phoebe."  And  he  proceeded  to  lather  his 
face,  and  to  prepare  for  Mr.  Rukely's  sermon. 


MR.    CRUMLETT '$   SPECULATIONS  371 


XL 

MR.  CRUMLETT'S  SPECULATIONS 

Miss  MATILDA  FOSDICK  was  not  so  indifferent  to  the 
chances  of  obtaining  a  husband,  but  that  she  entertained  a 
degree  of  matrimonial  hope  from  the  honorable  intentions 
of  Mr.  Enos  Crumlett.  Enos  had  a  consumptive  mother, 
who  he  "  didn't  ca'late  would  be  with  him  much  longer," 
and  whom  he  was  anxious  to  replace  with  a  good  wife.  "  I 
can't  think  o'  lettin'  my  farm,"  he  reasoned,  "  an'  I  s'pose 
't  '11  be  clieaper  '11  the  end  to  git  married,  than  to  hire 
a  housekeeper,  or  board."  He  had  these  considerations 
in  mind  when  he  asked  Miss  Fosdick  for  her  company ; 
and  perhaps  Miss  Fosdick  also  had  something  of  the  sort 
in  view  when  she  accepted  his  advances.  He  wanted  a 
housekeeper  ;  she  wanted  a  house  to  keep. 

It  was  through  Mr.  Crumlett's  influence  that  Matilda 
had  consented  to  step  out  of  her  "  sphere  "  into  the  do 
mestic  service  of  Mrs.  Bertha  Rukely.  Mr.  Crumlett 
reasoned  thus :  "  'Tildy,  I  guess,  '11  make  a  perty  smart 
kind  o'  gal,  keep  her  away  from  'Livy  and  'Patry.  Besides, 
I  don't  care  about  inarryin'  more  'n  one  o'  Sam  Fosdick's 
darters  't  a  time ;  an'  the  sooner  she  breaks  with  the  rest 
on  'em,  the  better.  Then,  agin,  she  may  as  well  be  arnin'  a 
little  suthin  for  herself,  agin  spring,  for  'tain't  prob'ble  ma 
'11  hold  out  much  longer  'n  that,  if  she  does  so  long."  So 
Matilda  never  visited  her  family  now,  and  had  as  little 
intercourse  with  Olivia  and  Cleopatra  as  possible ;  a  circum 
stance  which,  in  Bertha's  mind,  very  much  favored  the 
project  of  keeping  Charlotte's  presence  in  the  house  a 


372  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

secret.  But  this  advantage  found  an  offset,  perhaps,  in  the 
fact  of  Mr.  Crumlett's  visits.  He  was  accustomed  to  prose 
cute  his  courting  in  Mr.  Kukely's  kitchen,  and  Sunday 
evening  was  his  regular  night. 

At  the  usual  hour,  on  the  evening  of  that  eventful  day, 
his  narrow  face,  with  its  bleak  nose  and  small  twinkling 
eyes,  appeared  at  the  door,  and  greeted  Miss  Fosdick  with 
a  puckery  smile. 

"  Wai,"  he  said,  pulling  off  his  long,  gray  greatcoat  and 
coon-skin  cap,  "  how  d'e  du  these  times  ?  What's  the 
news  ?  " 

Matilda,  hanging  the  coat  upon  a  nail :  "  I  don't  hear 
much  of  anything ;  do  you  ?  " 

Enos  sat  down,  and  stretched  out  his  legs  by  the  stove. 
"  They  ben  haviii'  a  tearin'  time  on  the  crick,  I  s'pose 
you  heerd  ?  " 

"About  Charlotte  Woods?" 

"  Yis  ;  queer,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  I  wa'n't  much  surprised,"  said  Matilda  carelessly. 

"  Wai,  I  was  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Crumlett.  "  I  knowed 
her  like  a  book  !  She  wa'n't  half  so  black  as  some  white 
folks  I  know;  she  was  jest  dark  enough  to  be  ra'al 
perty." 

"  You  fancy  dark  complexions,  I  see  ! "  observed  Ma 
tilda,  with  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  I  admire  your  taste  !  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  -  —  Enos  grinned,  —  "  and  that's  what 
makes  me  like  you." 

Matilda  scornfully  :  "  You  don't  call  me  dark,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  I  don't  call  you  nothin'  else  !  " 

"  Well,  if  you  hain't  got  eyes  !  It's  the  first  time  I  was 
ever  called  dark." 

"  You're  darker  ?n  Charlotte  Woods,  —  now,  come  !  " 
cried  Enos,  hitching  towards  Miss  Fosdick's  chair. 

"I?"  exclaimed  Matilda.  "Mebbe  I  be,"  —  with  sar 
casm;  " you' re  welcome  to  think  so,  any  way!  As  if  I 
cared ! " 


MR.    CRUMLETT 'S   SPECULATIONS  373 

"I  don't  mean,"-  — Mr.  Crumlett  saw  fit  to  qualify  his 
assertion,  — "  that  is,  I  didn't  say  't  your  skin  is  like 
hern"- 

"  Which  you  admired  so  much !  "  sneered  Matilda. 

"  You  ain't  exactly  dark,  but  —  wal,  I  can't  express  it ; 
only  you  are  red,  —  no,  not  red,  but  kind  o'  red  and  brown," 
said  Mr.  Crumlett. 

Matilda  puckered  her  lips  into  a  smirk,  accompanied  by 
peculiar  undulations  of  the  head,  indicative  of  contempt, 
and,  taking  up  a  book,  pretended  to  read.  Mr.  Crumlett 
hitched  his  chair  still  nearer,  and  looked  over  the  corner 
of  the  book  with  a  good-natured  grin.  "  I  wish  you'd  go 
away  !  "  exclaimed  Matilda. 

"  There  !  "  said  Mr.  Crumlett,  "  that's  all  I  wanted  !  If 
you've  got  sich  a  temper  't  we  can't  git  along  together  'fore 
we're  married,  what  'u'd  we  do  afterwards  ?  We  may  as 
well  break  off  now  as  any  time."  And  Enos  snatched  his 
coat  from  the  nail. 

"  You're  as  much  mistaken  as  you  can  be,  if  you  think 
I  was  mad  !  "  remarked  Matilda.  "  Bat,  if  you  want  to  go, 
I'm  sure  I  sha'n't  hender  you."  And  she  kindly  offered 
to  help  Enos  on  with  his  greatcoat. 

"  Thank  ye,"  said  Enos;  "much  obleeged."  He  began  to 
button  himself  up  very  fast,  and  put  on  his  mittens.  "  I'm 
glad  you're  so  willin'  to  have  me  go.  Where's  my  cap  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I'm  willin',  if  you've  got  sick  of  me,  and 
want  to  break  off  the  engagement  !  " 

"  Who  said  I  was  sick,  and  wanted  to  break  off  ?  " 

"  You  wouldn't  quit  so,  if  you  wa'u't  ! "  said  Matilda, 
beginning  to  cry.  "  It's  you  that's  got  temper,  I  should 
think  ! " 

"  I  ?  I  hain't  got  the  least  grain  o'  temper  in  the  world  ! 
Look  here !  I  guess  we'll  talk  that  over ! "  And  Mr. 
Crumlett  pulled  off  a  mitten. 

"  Set  down,  won't  ye,  while  you  stay  ?  "  asked  the  weep 
ing  Matilda. 


374  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  No,  I  won't  set  down."  Mr.  Crumlett  pulled  off  the 
other  mitten,  and  placed  both  in  his  cap.  "  What  do  ye 
mean  about  my  havin'  temper  ?  " 

"  I  meant  if  you  went  off  so,  jest  for  what  I  said  "  - 

Mr.  Crumlett  placed  his  cap  on  the  table,  and  sat  down, 
still  buttoned  to  the  throat.  "  We  may  as  well  have  it 
understood,  and  part  friends,  for  what  I  see.  I'm  sure 
I  hain't  thought  o'  breakin'  off;  I  was  goin'  'cause  you 
wanted  me  to." 

"  Take  off  your  coat,  won't  ye  ?  " 

"  No,  I  guess  not."  Mr.  Crumlett  looked  injured.  "  I'll 
unbutton,  though,  while  I  stop." 

"  You  won't  feel  it  when  you  go  out,"  said  Matilda,  with 
tearful  affection.  "  You'd  better  take  it  off." 

"  You  do  beat  all  the  gals  I  ever  see  ! "  exclaimed  Enos. 
"You  can  make  a  feller  do  jest  what  you're  a  mind  to! 
Kind  o'  like^ye,  'Tildy,  arter  all !  "  The  coat  was  returned 
to  the  nail  in  the  wall,  and  Mr.  Crumlett  seated  himself, 
all  smiles,  by  Matilda's  side. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  was  so  well  acquainted  with  her," 
said  Matilda. 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  much  !     Who  said  I  was  ?  " 

"  You  j  you  said  you  knew  her  like  a  book." 

"  Did  I  ?  Oh,  wal,  all  I  meant  was,  that  I'd  seen  her, 
and  eat  dinner  with  her.  You  know  all  about  that.  'Twas 
the  day  her  and  Hector  broke  down,  and  I  carried  'em 
home  in  my  wagon.  I  made  fifty  cents  by  it,  that's  the 
most  I  remember.  And  that  reminds  me  't  I  made  fifty 
cents  to-day,  if  'tis  Sunday." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Matilda. 

"Mr.  Jackwood  found  a  couple  o'  his  lambs  on  a  knoll 
jest  above  the  turnpike  bridge  ;  and  he  told  me,  if  I'd  git 
'em  up  to  my  house,  and  keep  'em  till  to-morrer,  he'd  gi' 
me  half  a  dollar.  I  hain't  got  my  money  yit ;  but  I  shall 
make  sure  on't,  when  he  takes  the  lambs  away.  I'd  trust 
him  sooner  'n  'most  any  man  I  know,  any  other  time." 


ME.    CBUMLETT'S   SPECULATIONS  375 

"  Why  not  now  ?  " 

"  Gracious ! "  said  Mr.  Crumfett,  "  hain't  you  heerd, 
then  ?  All  the  talk  is  't  he'll  lose  his  farm,  sartin  's  the 
world.  The  slave-ketchers  are  stoppin'  in  town  a  pu'pose 
to  prosecute  him." 

"  That's  too  bad  !  "  exclaimed  Matilda. 

"Does  seem  kind  o'  tough.  But  then,  if  I  owned  a 
slave,  and  should  lose  'em  in  that  kind  o'  way,  I  should 
think  'twa'n't  no  more  'n  right  I  should  git  my  pay  for 
'em.  But,  arter  all,  I'd  go  agin  finin'  a  man  like  Mr.  Jack- 
wood  a  cent  more  'n  the  actual  damage.  Hang  it  all ! " 
exclaimed  Mr.  Crumlett,  "  I  don't  know  but  I'd  done  as 
much  for  Charlotte  Woods  myself  !  What  do  ye  look  so 
for  ?  " 

"  So  ?     How  ?  "  asked  Matilda  innocently. 

"  Kind  o'  so,"  replied  Mr.  Crumlett,  with  a  grimace, 
"jest  as  if  you  knowed  suthin  't  you  wouldn't  tell." 

"  I  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You'd  make  a  feller  think  you'd  heerd  suthin  about 
Mr.  Jackwood  or  Charlotte  ;  for  as  often  as  I've  spoke  of 
'em,  you've  done  that,"  -  —  another  grimace. 

Matilda  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  face,  and  tittered 
behind  it,  much  to  Mr.  Crumlett's  annoyance.  "  Wai,  I 
ain't  goin'  to  tease,"  said  Enos.  "  Folks  to  hum  to-night  ?  " 

"  I'm  to  home,"  answered  Matilda. 

"  There  'tis  agin  !     Is  anybody  else  ?  " 

"  You  know  Mr.  Rukely  never  is  to  home  Sunday  nights ; 
he  lectures  in  the  vestry." 

"  Is  Berthy  to  hum,  then  ?  "  demanded  Enos  impa 
tiently. 

"  What  difference  does  't  make  to  you  whether  she's  to 
home  or  not  ?  "  retorted  Matilda,  with  the  same  exasper 
ating  look. 

"  Come  !  "  said  Enos,  "  don't  act  so  thunderin'  silly  !  " 

"  Silly  ?  Oh,  I'm  silly,  be  I  ?     Glad  ye  told  me  !  " 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.     Of  course  it's  silly,  when 


376  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

you've  got  suthin'  you  won't  tell  a  feller,  an'  act  that  way. 
Conie,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  if  I'm  silly,  then  it's  no  matter  !  "  said  'Tildy,  with 
a  contemptuous  toss. 

Thereupon  Mr.  Crumlett,  notwithstanding  his  total  lack 
of  temper,  took  oft'ence,  and,  after  some  more  words,  went 
so  far  as  to  put  on  his  greatcoat  and  mittens  again,  and 
button  himself  to  the  chin. 

"  Jest  as  well,  if  you  want  to  leave  me  in  this  way,"  said 
Miss  Fosdick  coolly.  "'Tain't  as  though  I  was  in  such  a 
great  hurry  to  git  married.  Good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever 
was  ketched  out  of  it." 

Enos,  who  had  expected  to  see  her  weep  and  protest, 
stood  irresolute. 

"  Look  here  !  "  he  said.  "  Le's  have  it  understood.  If 
you  want  to  break  the  engagement  " 

"  I  hain't  said  anything  about  breakin'  the  engagement," 
replied  Matilda.  "  'Twas  you  begun  it." 

"  I  ?  I  don't  want  to  break  off,"  said  Enos,  mollified. 
"  If  you  want  to,  why,  of  course,  only  I  shall  expect  ye  to 
give  me  back  that  tooth-brush  I  give  ye." 

"  I  guess  I  can  find  somebody  else  to  give  me  a  tooth 
brush  !  "  'Tildy  retorted  resentfully. 

"  By  smoky  !  "  thundered  Enos,  with  which  prodigious 
oath  he  pulled  his  coon-skin  cap  over  his  ears  with  a  resolute 
air,  that  really  frightened  Matilda.  Again  she  coaxed  him ; 
he  utterly  refused  to  stay,  except  on  one  condition ;  and 
seized  hold  of  the  door-latch  as  if  unwilling  to  remain  even 
for  that.  "  Jest  as  ye  please,"  he  mumbled.  "  Tell  me  or 
not,  I  don't  care  !  " 

It  is  probable  that  Matilda  intended  to  tell  him  from  the 
first ;  for  it  would  have  cost  her  more  forbearance  than  she 
ever  exercised  in  her  life  to  keep  so  exciting  a  secret.  His 
threat  of  leaving  her  was  enough  to  quiet  her  conscience; 
and,  prevailing  upon  Enos  to  sit  down,  she  yielded  after  a 
brief  struggle,  and  with  an  air  of  profound  mystery  im- 


MR.    CRUMLETT'S   SPECULATIONS  377 

parted  the  story  of  Charlotte's  safety.  "  But  she's  real 
sick  !  "  continued  Matilda.  "  She  don't  know  anything, 
but  talks  such  unheard-of  things  !  Berthy  is  with  her 
every  minute  o'  the  time  ;  and  they've  had  the  doctor  to 
her  twice  to-day.  Don't  you  whisper  it,  for  the  world  ! 
I  don't  want  even  Berthy  should  know  I  told  ye,  for  I 
promised  I  wouldn't !  " 

"  In  this  very  house  !  "  ejaculated  Enos,  crossing  his 
legs,  first  one  way,  then  the  other ;  then  getting  up, 
then  sitting  down  again  ;  then  embracing  his  knees  with 
his  arms,  as  if  to  hold  himself  together.  "  Beats  every 
thing  !  What  'u'd  them  Southerners  give  ?  Jingoes  ! 
"Tildy !  it's  the  greatest  thing  I  ever  heerd  in  all  my 
born  days !  " 

"  Now  don't  you  tell  in  all  this  world  ! "  exclaimed 
Matilda. 

"  Ain't  it  a  good  one  ?  "  chuckled  Enos.  "  Takes  me 
right  out  o'  my  boots  !  In  this  very  house  !  Jerushy 
mighty  !  I  shall  die  a  laffin'  !  " 

"  Hark  !  "  whispered  Matilda.     "  Berthy's  coming  !  " 


Dickson  and  his  companions  fortified  themselves  in  the 
village  tavern,  and  appeared  to  take  a  brutal  pride  in  brav 
ing  an  outraged  public.  With  law,  pistols,  and  the  rum- 
drinking  community  on  their  side,  they  apprehended 
little  personal  danger,  as  long  as  there  was  no  occasion 
for  the  active  performance  of  their  Union-saving  func 
tions.  Whether  they  were  waiting  to  receive  instruc 
tions  with  regard  to  the  prosecution  of  Mr.  Jackwood, 
or  whether  they  still  entertained  hopes  of  hearing  from 
Charlotte,  could  only  be  surmised.  Perhaps  they  had  both 
objects  in  view.  They  were  also  very  active  in  procur 
ing  information  with  regard  to  colored  people,  both  in  the 
States  and  in  Canada,  evidently  with  the  design  of  seiz 
ing  some  fugitive  supposed  to  have  taken  refuge  in  that 
region. 


378  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WO  Ob 

One  day,  as  Dickson  was  riding  over  the  turnpike,  he 
was  accosted  by  a  bleak-nosed  individual  passing  in  the 
same  direction  on  foot.  "  Ye  look  kind  o'  lonesome,  ridin' 
alone  j  p'r'aps  ye  wouldn't  mind  givin'  me  a  lift  as  fur  as 
the  Corners."  He  wore  a  long  gray  overcoat,  and  a  heavy 
visorless  cap  made  of  raccoon  skin,  with  the  ringed  tail  at 
tached,  and  hanging  fantastically  down  his  back. 

"  Jump  aboard,"  replied  Dickson. 

"  Quite  a  spell  o'  weather,  arter  the  shower.  Turnpike 
don't  look  much  as  it  did  about  a  week  ago,"  observed 
the  chance  passenger,  as  he  pulled  the  blanket  over  his 
knees.  "  Though  mabby  you  wa'n't  in  these  parts  at  the 
time,"  with  a  glance  at  Dickson's  face.  "  The  water  was  up 
to  a  hoss's  knees  all  along  this  road,  and  a  good  deal  deeper 
in  places.  But  it  fell  'bout  as  sudden  as  it  riz.  It  hadn't 
more  'n  time  to  freeze  over,  'fore  down  it  went,  and  there 
wa'n't  nothin'  but  a  scum  of  ice  left  on  the  interval.  Then 
the  snow  coine  ;  and  now  ye  wouldn't  know  there'd  been 
a  freshet  at  all.  Do  you  belong  in  these  parts  ?  " 

"I've  been  stopp'n'  a  few  days  down  yer,"  replied 
Dickson. 

"  Business,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

"  Wai,  business  and  pleasure  combined.  I  wanted  to  see 
what  kind  o'  stuff  you  Yankees  was  made  of,"  with  a  grin 
of  insolent  good-nature. 

«  You're  from  the  South,  I  take  it  ?  " 

"  Wai,  I  be !  The  people  in  these  digg'n's  have  pooty 
generally  found  that  out,  I  reck'n  !  " 

Mr.  Crumlett  —  for  the  wearer  of  the  coon-skin  cap  was 
no  other  than  our  friend  Enos  —  felt  a  good  deal  excited, 
and  his  teeth  began  to  chatter.  "  I  guess  likely  ye  remem 
ber  the  freshet,  then  !  " 

"  Wai,  I  reck'n  !  Some  things  'tain't  so  easy  to  rub 
out !  "  said  Dickson,  whipping  his  horse. 

"  'Twas  dre'f ul  unf ort'nit  'bout  her  gittin'  drownded  ! " 
observed  Mr,  Crumlett,  in  a  friendly  tone. 


ME.    CRUMLETT  ^S   SPECULATIONS  379 

"I  wouldn't  have  had  it  happen/'  cried  Dickson,  "  f or 
twice  the  wuth  of  her !  that's  a  fact !  But  'tain't  all  over 
with  ! " 

"  How  do  ye  git  along  with  Mr.  Jackwood  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we're  gitt'n'  along  !     Things  is  work'n'  ! " 

"I  s'pose  there  ain't  no  doubt,"  said  Enos,  "'bout  her 
be-in'  drownded  —  hey?  You  give  it  up  as  a  gone  case,  I 
s'pose?" 

"  It's  mighty  doubtful  'bout  our  ever  hearin'  of  her  agin, 
I  reck'n,''  replied  Dickson. 

"  Arter  all,"  remarked  Mr.  Crumlett,  "  'twouldn't  be 
nothin'  so  very  strange,  if  she  was  hid  away  some'eres 
right  in  the  neighborhood.  'Tain't  't  all  likely,  I  know  ; 
but  s'posin'  she  was  ?  " 

"  'Tain't  a  supposable  case,  hardly ;  and  if  she  was,  the 
next  thing  'u'd  be  to  git  a  clew  to  her.  Gi'  me  a  clew," 
said  Dickson,  with  professional  assurance,  "  and  'tain't 
easy  to  trip  me  up !  The  gal  neveu'd  got  away  as  she  did, 
if  I  could  have  had  my  way.'' 

Mr.  Crumlett  chuckled  nervously.  "  Wai,  there  ain't  no 
use  talkin',  if  she's  drownded ;  but  if  she  only  was  hid 
away  some'eres,  'twouldn't  be  a  bad  joke,  hey  ?  You'd 
be  tickled,  I  guess!" 

"  Wai,  I  should  —  particularly  if  I  got  suspicions  of  it  in 
time  ! " 

"  Can't  help  laffin  !  "  chuckled  Mr.  Crumlett ;  "'but,  arter 
all,  it's  no  use  ;  there  ain't  a  doubt  but  what  she's  drownded  ; 
you  really  think  there  ain't,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

'•I'd  give,"  said  Dickson,  casting  a  shrewd  glance  at  his 
companion,  (i  I'd  give  a  hundred  dollars,  out  o'  my  own 
pocket,  jest  to  have  such  a  clew  as  I  spoke  of." 

"  A  hundred  dollars  !  "  echoed  Enos  quickly.  "  You 
wouldn't  give  me  a  hundred  dollars  now,  jest  s'pose,  for 
instance  " 

'•Tell  you  what  I  icould  do,"  exclaimed  Dickson,  "'jest 
for  the  sake  o'  talk'n'.  I'd  give  fifty  dollars,  cash  down, 


380  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

and  fifty  more  in  case  the  gal  was  found.  That  Vd  be 
fair  enough,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Wai,  yis,  I  s'pose  so,"  said  Mr  .Crumlett,  taken  with  a 
general  shivering.  «  But  since  she's  drownded,  there  ain't 
no  use  talkin'.  Fine  spell  o'  weather,  looks  like  now." 

"  I  can  fancy  your  call'n'  it  fine,"  returned  Dickson. 
"  But  I've  had  enough  of  your  Varmount  winters." 

"It's  warmer  where  you  be,  hey?  Ye  'xpect  to  stop 
long  in  these  parts  ?  " 

"  That  depends  altogetner  upon  circumstances.  If  I 
could  lay  hands  on  that  gal  "  — 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  it  makes  me  laf  ! "  said  Mr.  Crumlett.  "  What 
if  I  could  find  out  suthin  about  her  ?  though  'tain't  pos 
sible,  of  course !  " 

"  Hold  them  'ar  lines  a  minute,  if  you  please."  Enos 
took  the  reins ;  and  his  companion,  pulling  off  his  driving- 
gloves,  brought  up  from  the  depths  of  his  pocket  a  handful 
of  gold.  "  Three,  six,  nine,  there's  twelve  half-eagles ; 
that  makes  sixty  dollars  ;  I'll  give  that  to  any  man  for  a 
sure  clew  to  that  gal's  whereabouts,  if  she's  livin',  and  in 
the  States ;  and  as  much  more  if  she's  found,  in  conse 
quence.  Now,  thar's  a  chance." 

"  So  there  is, — or,  ruther,  would  be,"-  — Mr.  Crumlett's 
teeth  chattered  harder  than  ever  — "  but  what's  the 
use  ?  " 

"  That's  gold,"  said  Dickson,  clinking  the  coin.  «•  Sixty 
dollars,  twice  sixty  is  a  hundred  and  forty  " 

"  A  hundred  and  twenty  !  "  interrupted  Mr.  Crumlett. 

"  Wai,  we'll  call  it  a  hundred  and  forty,  for  the  sake  of 
talk ;  sixty  down,  and  eighty  on  condish'n." 

"  What  do  ye  s'pose  'u'd  be  done  with  her,  if  she  should 
be  found  ?  "  chattered  Mr.  Crumlett. 

"Why,"  said  Dickson,  "she's  got  friends  up  yer,  I 
reck'n.  They'd  buy  her,  ruther  'n  see  her  go  South  agin, 
wouldn't  they?  All  the  owner  wants  is  the  wuth  of  his 
property." 


MR.    CRUMLETT1 8   SPECULATIONS  381 

"  That's  nat'ral  !  "  said  Mr.  Crumlett. 

"  And,  under  the  circumstances,  he'd  put  her  't  a  low 
figur'.  Oh,"  cried  Dickson  cracking  his  whip  carelessly, 
"  I'd  be  responsible  there  shouldn't  be  no  trouble  about 
that." 

"  Do  ye  think  so  ?  are  ye  sure  ? "  demanded  Mr.  Crum 
lett.  "  Hold  on ;  I  got  to  git  out  here." 

"  I'm  sorry ;  I  was  in  hopes  o'  havin'  your  company  cl'ar 
to  the  village.  Won't  ye  go  no  further  ?  " 

"  Can't  very  well,  should  like  to,  but  I  got  an  arrant 
over  here,  an'  I'm  in  suthin  of  a  hurry.  Look  here!" 
cried  Mr.  Crumlett  —  how  his  teeth  did  chatter  !  —  "  but 
never  mind  !  I  couldn't  find  out  nothin',  if  I  should  try. 
So,  'tain't  no  use  talkin'.  Though,  by  smoky  !  I'm  a  good 
mind  to  inquire  'round  !  You  won't  be  drivin'  this  way  to- 
morrer  'bout  this  time,  will  ye  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  shall,"  returned  Dickson  ;  "  why  ?  " 

"Wai,  nothin',"  said  Enos.  "  Hut,  then,  if  you're  goin' 
by,  —  wal,  I  don't  know,  if  you  should  turn  into  that  'ere 
road  you  passed  jest  t'  other  side  o'  the  secont  house  over 
the  crick,  mabby  you'd  find  me  choppin'  on  the  edge  o'  the 
woods.  I  don't  'xpect  to  find  out  anything ;  but  if  I 
should," -  —  chatter,  chatter!  shiver,  shiver! — u  wal,  on  the 
hull,  I  guess  'twon't  be  wuth  while  to  think  about  it !  " 

"  I'll  make  it  wuth  yer  while  ! "  And  Dickson,  giving 
Mr.  Crumlett 's  hand  a  hearty  shake,  left  a  piece  of  money 
in  it.  "  That's  to  pay  ye  for  your  trouble,  anyway.  Come, 
ride  over  to  the  tavern,  and  take  suthin !  " 

"  Can't  possibly  !  "  said  Enos,  getting  out  of  the  sleigh. 
"I'm  in  an  all-fired  hurry." 

"Wal,  see  ye  to-morrer!"  exclaimed  Dickson  confi 
dentially.  "  Make  it  all  right,  ye  know !  Take  care  o' 
yerself,  old  boy !  "  He  drove  away.  Poor  Crumlett,  as  he 
gazed  after  him,  shook  until  the  dangling  raccoon's  tail 
wagged  and  wriggled  on  his  back.  He  couldn't  tell  why 
he  shivered,  —  the  day  was  not  extremely  cold,  —  and  now 


382  NEIGIIBOE  JACKWOOD 

he   discovered   that   the    perspiration    was    starting   from 
every  pore  of  his  skin. 

"  A  HUNDRED  AND  FORTY  DOLLARS  !  "-  —  Chatter,  chatter ! 
shiver,  shiver  !  again  ;  and  Mr.  Crumlett  wiped  the  cold 
sweat-drops  from  his  face.  He  thought  he  was  going  to 
have  a  "  shake  of  the  ager ; "  but  it  was  worse  than  that ; 
he  had  caught  the  worst  kind  of  yellow  fever,  from  the 
sight  of  Dickson's  gold. 


CONFESSIONS  383 


XLI 

CONFESSIONS 

CHARLOTTE  raised  her  head  feebly  from  the  pillow,  with 
a  troubled  expression ;  but,  perceiving  Bertha,  who  sat 
watching  by  the  bedside,  a  faint,  grateful  smile  stole  over 
her  Avan  features. 

"  Oh,"  said  she  with  deep  emotion,  "  you  are  always 
watching!  Good  Bertha!  dear  Bertha!  I  should  have 
died  but  for  you  !  I  have  been  very  sick,  have  I  not  ?  " 

"  Very  sick,"  replied  Bertha,  taking  the  poor  girl's  hands 
in  hers.  "  Oh,  I  am  so  thankful  to  see  you  better  now  !  " 

"  I  am  afraid  my  mind  is  not  quite  right  as  yet,"  Char 
lotte  said.  "  Every  noise  startles  me.  I  thought,  just 
now,  some  persons  I  feared  were  rushing  into  the  room.'' 

"It  was  grandmother,  who  looked  in,  to  ask  how  you 
were." 

"  And  Hector  ?  "  said  Charlotte.  "  Something  has  hap 
pened  to  him !  Heaven  help  me,  if  he  does  not  come  soon  ! 
I  am  still  hunted;  and  I  lie  here  sick,  while  I  should  be 
hastening  to  a  place  of  safety  !  But  I  will  not  repine. 
Tell  me,  Bertha !  did  I  talk  much  in  my  fever  ?  " 

"  A  good  deal,  at  times,"  said  Bertha. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  all  I  said  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  try  to  remember  anything,  because  you  were 
delirious." 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  !  "  said  Charlotte,  with  a 
troubled  smile. 

Bertha  drew  near  ;  her  cheeks  changed  their  color,  and 
her  lips  quivered  ;  but.  bending  affectionately  over  the  pil- 


384  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

low,  she  whispered  something  which  made  Charlotte  start 
and  clasp  her  hand  upon  her  heart. 

"  It  is  true,  Bertha  !  "  faltered  Charlotte. 

"  You  are  his  wife ! "  said  Bertha ;  and  her  features 
seemed  transfixed  with  pain. 

"  You  are  not  glad  to  hear  it !  "  said  Charlotte  sadly. 
"  You  think  that  one  in  my  position  —  But,  believe  me, 
Bertha,  it  was  his  LOVE  !  Perhaps  I  should  not  have 
yielded.  I  know  I  have  destroyed  the  peace  and  the  pride 
of  his  family  —  but,  0  Bertha,  do  not  you  hate  me  for  it ! 
do  not !  You  are  happy  ;  you  are  united  to  the  man  you 
love ;  and  I  am  glad  for  you !  And  you  —  in  your  place 
—  do  not  judge  me  harshly  —  do  not,  good  Bertha  !  " 

"0  Charlotte!"  Bertha  cried  out,  "if  you  could  look 
into  my  heart !  You  have  not  understood  me !  And  I 
have  not  understood  myself  till  now ! " 

"  You  know  me  now,  what  I  am,"  said  Charlotte.  "  If 
you  still  love  me  and  trust  me,  why  not  open  our  hearts  to 
each  other  ?  I  will  show  you  all  of  mine  "  — 

"  But  mine  !  "  exclaimed  Bertha.  "  Oh,  what  a  wayward 
thing  it  is  !  You  would  hate  me,  Charlotte  !  " 

"  Hate  you,  dearest  Bertha !  " 

"  Yes,  for  just  now  I  hated  you ;  I  had  something  like 
death  for  you  in  my  soul !     You  did  not  know  —  that  I  — 
that  I  —  loved  Hector  ! " 

"  Bertha !  Bertha !  "  moaned  Charlotte. 

"  What  frenzy  has  forced  me  to  tell  you  ?  "  cried  Bertha. 
"  But  you  will  not  hate  me ;  you  will  not  betray  me !  I 
must  confess  myself  to  you,  or  the  weight  that  is  on  my 
soul  will  kill  me !  I  love  my  husband,  —  for  he  is  good,  and 
how  could  I  not  love  him  ?  —  but  not  as  a  wife  should  love 
a  husband !  I  never  did  !  I  believed,  I  hoped  I  should, 
when  we  were  married.  But  I  shrink  from  his  near  ap 
proach.  '  I  am  repelled  from  him  by  every  instinct  and 
feeling  of  my  nature.  Charlotte,  tell  me  what  to  do  ! " 

Charlotte,  in  her  amazement  and  pity,  could  not  utter  a 
word. 


CONFESSIONS  385 

"  I  am  no  longer  jealous,"  Bertha  went  on.  "  I  felt  but 
one  sharp,  piercing  pang,  when  you  told  me  you  were  Hec 
tor's  wife.  I  gave  him  up  long  ago  ;  I  have  schooled  my 
self  to  resignation ;  I  pray  for  his  happiness  and  yours, 
from  the  depths  of  my  heart." 

"  I  know  you  do  !  "  said  Charlotte.  "  0  Bertha !  poor, 
dear  Bertha  !  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Do  not  sob  so  !  " 

"  I  will  not,"  returned  Bertha,  struggling  with  herself. 
"  I  have  no  right  to  lay  my  burdens  upon  you.  Yet  I 
needed  to  confess  myself  to  some  one." 

"And  you  deemed  me  worthy."  Bertha  kissed  her 
friend.  "  0  sister  !  "  breathed  Charlotte,  "  your  lot  is 
hard  !  But  duty  will  sustain  you,  and  prayer  will  make 
you  strong." 

"  I  do  not  know,"  exclaimed  Bertha  wildly.  "  I  thought 
I  did  my  duty  when  I  married.  I  see  now  how  it  was.  I 
silenced  my  nature  ;  I  stifled  my  deepest  convictions  ;  I 
followed  the  dictates  of  calculation.  But  I  thought  I  was 
doing  right.  And,  if  I  could  then  be  so  deceived,  how  can 
I  ever  be  sure  of  the  truth  ?  I  dare  not  even  pray  !  In 
the  very  act  horrible  promptings  come  to  me.  It  is  as  if 
Satan  mocked  me  !  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Charlotte,  "  this  is  the  punishment  for 
disobeying  your  deepest  convictions.  The  Spirit  has  been 
grieved  away.  But  seek  it  again,  and  it  will  come ;  it  will 
teach  you  what  to  do." 

"  You  comfort  me,  Charlotte  !  But,  oh,  the  fatal  error ! 
I  had  not  the  heroism  to  live  an  old  maid,  that  is  it  !  Mr. 
Rukely  was  good  —  he  was  a  minister  —  I  desired  a  home, 
and  a  position.  And,  as  I  could  not  have  the  one  I  loved, 
I  flattered  myself  I  ought  to  marry  him.  I  called  esteem 
and  friendship  love ;  I  made  expediency  appear  a  duty. 
Do  not  think  I  have  been  disappointed  in  my  husband. 
He  is  all  I  expected,  and  more ;  he  is  too  good  to  me.  Only 
—  we  do  not  belong  to  each  other.  And  Charlotte,  was  it 
not  a  great  sin  ?  " 


386  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Charlotte  shuddered  involuntarily.  A  long  silence  fol 
lowed. 

"  You  have  something  to  say  to  me  of  yourself/'  said 
Bertha,  at  length. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  am  too  weak  now.  To-morrow,  if  I  am 
stronger  " 

"  To-morrow,  then,  dear  Charlotte  !  I  will  wait.  We  will 
both  be  stronger  then."  And  Bertha  embraced  her  friend, 
holding  her  long  in  her  arms,  and  kissing  her  fervently. 


On  the  following  day,  Bertha,  having  an  hour's  leisure, 
came  in  and  sat  down  by  the  convalescent's  side.  "  You 
were  to  tell  me  something,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  dear  Bertha.  But  sit  nearer.  I  want  your  hand 
in  mine." 

Having  raised  her  friend  to  an  easy  position,  and  braced 
her  up  with  pillows,  Bertha  sat  upon  the  side  of  the  bed, 
holding  her  hand. 

"It  is  the  story  of  my  life,  Bertha.  Camille  is  the 
name  my  father  gave  me.  He  was  a  French  merchant, 
named  Antoine  Delisard.  In  his  youth  he  had  been  at 
tached  to  a  young  girl,  —  my  namesake  ;  but  both  were 
poor,  and,  on  a  visit  to  Louisiana,  he  became  acquainted 
with  a  lady  whose  wealth  and  accomplishments  fascinated 
him,  and  they  were  married.  It  was  an  unhappy  union. 
She  proved  a  cold  and  heartless  woman,  with  nothing  in  her 
nature  to  compensate  him  for  the  sacrifice  of  poor  Camille. 
A  separation  took  place ;  and  he  was  about  returning  to 
France,  when,  by  chance,  he  saw  my  mother.  She  belonged 
to  a  bankrupt  estate  ;  she  was  to  be  sold ;  and  he  purchased 
her.  She  was  then  seventeen.  I  think  she  was  beautiful. 
She  was  the  child  of  a  white  father,  and  of  a  mother 
scarcely  darker  than  himself.  She  was  not  wanting  in 
education  and  accomplishments.  Brought  up  in  her 
father's  family,  she  had  received  the  same  advantages 
with  his  legitimate  children.  My  father  loved  her ;  and 


CONFESSIONS  387 

the  difference  in  their  ages  did  not  prevent  her  returning 
his  attachment  with  all  the  fervor  of  her  nature. 

"  I  was  their  only  child.  We  lived  in  a  pleasant  part  of 
New  Orleans,  where  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  friends 
came  to  visit  my  father  in  the  course  of  the  year.  He 
seemed  entirely  absorbed  in  his  affection  for  my  mother 
and  me.  I  was  his  pet.  I  remember  how  playfully  he 
used  to  snatch  me  in  his  arms,  when  he  returned  home 
at  night  from  his  work.  It  was  joyful  times  then  !  My 
mother  was  proud  and  happy.  Sometimes  they  took  me 
with  them  into  the  country ;  and  I  recollect  that  once 
there  was  a  great  storm ;  the  wind  broke  down  trees,  and 
tore  them  up  by  the  roots,  and  my  father's  hat  flew  away 
in  a  cloud  of  dust.  He  held  me  in  his  arms,  to  prevent  my 
flying  away  too.  At  first  I  thought  it  great  fun,  and 
clapped  my  hands  ;  but  afterwards  I  cried  with  fright, 
while  my  father  ran  with  me  across  a  field,  in  a  high  wind, 
to  a  house  which  remains  as  distinct  a  picture  in  my  mind 
as  if  I  had  seen  it  yesterday.  A  few  such  incidents  form 
prominent  points  in  my  memory  of  those  days ;  the  rest  is 
smooth  and  quiet. 

"  When  we  were  alone,  my  mother  used  to  occupy  her 
self  in  teaching  me  to  read  and  write.  If  I  was  indolent, 
she  excited  my  ambition  by  reminding  me  of  my  father, 
whose  praise  and  encouragement  made  my  little  heart  beat 
proudly  and  happily.  I  remember  his  saying  to  me,  one 
day,  f  You  will  shine  with  the  rest  of  them,  when  we  go  to 
France.'  I  was  sitting  on  his  knee  repeating  a  lesson  my 
mother  had  taught  me.  I  looked  in  his  face  —  I  think  of 
it  now  as  such  a  kind,  good  face  !  —  and  asked  what  he 
meant  by  going  to  France.  '  You  will  know,  one  of  these 
days,  darling!'  said  he, — and  kissing  me,  he  took  me  in 
his  arms  and  hugged  me  tight.  I  asked  my  mother  what 
he  meant ;  she  told  me  that  France  was  a  beautiful  country 
away  over  the  sea,  and  that  we  were  all  going  there  to 
gether,  as  soon  as  my  father  was  rich  enough,  so  that  we 


388  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

could  live  there,  and  spend  as  much  money  as  we  pleased. 
She  seemed  elated  with  the  idea,  and  of  course  I  thought  it 
fine;  but  an  old  negro  servant  laughed  at  us,  and  told  us 
she  had  heard  too  many  such  stories  to  believe  them. 
That  was  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  my  mother  angry. 
She  threatened  to  have  the  old  woman  whipped ;  but  she 
only  laughed  the  more,  showing  her  hideous  gums  and 
broken  teeth,  which  I  remember  to  this  day. 

"  After  that  we  talked  a  great  deal  about  France.  But 
we  were  careful  not  to  let  the  old  woman  hear  us ;  and,  if 
she  entered  the  room,  we  were  silent.  My  mother  excited 
my  imagination  with  romantic  stories,  repeating  what  my 
father  had  told  her,  with  a  thousand  exaggerations.  I 
thought  of  nothing,  dreamed  of  nothing,  but  France.  But 
one  day  my  father  came  home  with  a  headache,  and  went 
to  bed.  The  next  I  remember,  the  house  was  filled  with 
strangers ;  I  was  terrified,  and  my  mother  was  frantic. 
There  was  a  tall,  pale,  severe  woman,  who  had  her  servants 
and  doctors,  and  who  would  not  let  us  go  into  the  room 
where  he  was.  One  day,  however,  my  mother  armed  her 
self  with  a  knife,  and  rushed  into  the  room,  dragging  me 
after  her.  There  was  a  pallor  and  fury  in  her  looks  which 
frightened  the  attendants  away,  and  for  some  time  we  had 
sole  possession  of  the  chamber.  My  father  called  her  his 
brave  girl ;  and,  although  he  was  very  sick,  he  pressed  us 
in  his  arms,  declaring  that  we  should  not  be  taken  from 
him  again.  But  suddenly  he  fell  back.  My  mother 
screamed.  The  pale  woman  rushed  in,  and  we  were  car 
ried  out.  I  remember  my  mother  clinging  to  the  bed, 
from  which  she  was  torn  by  main  force,  struggling  and 
shrieking;  then  we  were  locked  up  in  a  solitary  room. 
I  knew,  from  her  grief  and  despair,  that  my  father  was 
dead.  I  had  little  knowledge,  however,  of  the  destiny  that 
awaited  us.  I  cried  because  he  could  not  go  with  us  to 
France  !  I  wondered  if  we  should  go  without  him  ! 

"  The  pale  woman  was  his  wife.    By  law,  we  were  a  part 


CONFESSIONS  389 

of  his  property,  and  she  and  her  children  were  his  heirs. 
Then  we  learned  what  it  was  to  be  slaves  !  My  mother 
had  almost  forgotten  ;  I  had  never  known.  I  became  the 
companion  of  slave-children,  on  a  plantation  owned  by  Mrs. 
Delisard's  father.  I  was  half-clad,  like  them  ;  I  ate  their 
coarse  food  ;  I  slept  in  their  miserable  huts." 

"  And  your  mother  ?  "  said  Bertha. 

"  She  was  kept  as  a  servant  in  the  house.  I  did  not 
know,  then,  how  much  she  was  to  be  pitied.  The  change 
in  her  own  condition  was  not  her  hardest  trial.  To  see  me, 
her  darling,  growing  up  with  children  of  an  ignorant  and 
degraded  class,  was  more  than  she  could  bear.  One  day 
Mrs.  Delisard  brought  a  lady  to  visit  the  plantation.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  terrible  days  in  my  remembrance.  I  do 
not  know  the  immediate  cause  of  the  outburst ;  but  my 
mother  lost  all  command  of  her  temper,  and  poured  forth  a 
volley  of  indignation  and  anger  against*  her  mistress,  of 
which  I  had  a  vague  consciousness  of  being  in  some  way 
the  subject.  Mrs.  Delisard  said,  <  The  child  shall  be 
sold !  '  Her  paleness  frightened  me  more  than  my  mother's 
violence.  During  the  scene,  a  young  man  rode  up,  and, 
throwing  himself  from  his  horse,  struck  my  mother  with 
the  butt  of  his  riding-whip  across  the  temples.  It  was 
Mrs.  Delisard's  son  — 

"  Your  brother?  "  ejaculated  Bertha. 

"  I  suppose  so  !  My  mother  fell  to  the  ground,  and  was 
carried  away  insensible.  I  never  saw  her  again." 

"  She  died  !  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  she  was  not  so  happy  !  There  was  a  place  on 
the  plantation  where  the  worst  field-hands  were,  on  extraor 
dinary  occasions,  confined  for  bad  behavior.  It  was  a 
wretched,  dismal  pen,  which  the  superstitious  slaves  had 
peopled  with  imaginary  horrors  ;  and  to  be  imprisoned 
there  over  night  was  looked  upon  as  a  more  dreadful  and 
degrading  punishment  than  whipping.  There  my  mother 
was  shut  up,  and  the  great  black  padlock  was  put  upon  the 


390  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

door.  I  heard  Mrs.  Deli  sard  say,  '  to  humiliate  her,'  — 
and  for  years  after  I  could  not  hear  the  word  humiliate, 
without  associating  it  with  all  that  was  gloomy  and  ter 
rible." 

"  How  long  was  she  kept  there  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  No  person  was  allowed  to  go  near  her. 
The  slaves  huddled  together  that  night,  and  told  over  all 
the  stories  which  could  be  remembered  or  imagined  in  con 
nection  with  the  jail.  There  was  a  tradition  of  an  old 
negro  who  died  there,  one  night,  years  before,  in  conse 
quence  of  a  cutting  up,  or  flogging,  and  whose  ha'nt,  or 
apparition,  was  sure  to  manifest  itself  whenever  there  were 
any  troubles  on  the  plantation.  One  of  the  story-tellers, 
who  had  passed  a  night  in  the  jail,  declared  that  he  heard 
the  old  negro  shelling  corn  on  a  shovel  until  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  The  rest  related  similar  superstitions, 
frightening  themselves  and  each  other,  until  they  scarcely 
dared  separate  for  the  night.  For  my  part,  I  was  glad  to 
creep  into  the  bunk  with  the  other  children,  and  cover  my 
eyes,  for  fear  of  seeing  the  ghost  of  the  old  negro.  How  I 
trembled  for  my  mother  !  I  was  too  terrified  even  to  cry. 

"  The  next  morning  after  the  hands  had  gone  to  the  field, 
I  was  waiting  anxiously  to  know  what  would  be  done  with 
my  mother,  or  if  she  was  still  alive,  when  there  was  an  in 
quiry  made  for  me,  and  the  children  whispered  that  i  Milly 
was  going  to  be  sold  ! ' ; 

"  Who  was  Milly  ?  "  inquired  Bertha. 

"  If  you  had  seen  all  eyes  turned  upon  me,  with  shy  and 
wondering  looks,  you  would  have  discovered  who  Milly 
was  !  That  was  the  nickname  of  Camille.  I  was  marched 
out  for  inspection.  The  overseer  of  the  plantation  turned 
me  around,  and  made  me  show  my  arms  and  knees  to  a 
stranger,  who  was  going  to  buy  me.  I  remember  the  man's 
saying  that  I  looked  sickly,  and  the  overseer's  saying  that 
it  was  '  natural  white.'  Then  they  walked  away  together, 
to  conclude  the  bargain.  I  saw  the  overseer  point  towards 


CONFESSIONS  391 

the  jail ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  was  explaining  why 
I  was  to  be  sold,  and  telling  about  my  mother.  All  this 
time  I  could  say  nothing  but  '  Don't  sell  me  !  please  don't 
have  me  sold  ! '  I  was  sobbing,  when  one  of  the  servants 
came  to  take  me  to  the  piazza,  where  Mrs.  Delisard  was 
walking  with  her  visitor.  The  lady  spoke  to  me  kindly, 
and  asked  me  how  I  would  like  to  have  her  buy  me.  I 
said  I  didn't  want  to  be  sold.  <  I  Jut  you  would  rather  go 
\vith  me  than  with  that  man,  would  you  not  ?  '  said  the 
lady.  1 1  want  to  go  with  my  mother,'  said  I,  '  and  I 
don't  want  to  be  sold.'  Then  she  said  something  aside  to 
Mrs.  Delisard.  I  only  heard  Mrs.  Delisard's  reply  that  she 
was  determined.  I  thought  it  was  something  awful  to  be 
determined  ;  for  I  was  wise  enough  to  see  that  there  was 
no  mercy  in  her  heart  for  either  my  mother  or  me. 

"  I  was  sold,  and  carried  away  that  day.  I  remember 
struggling  and  crying  to  see  my  mother  again ;  after  which, 
I  can  recall  nothing,  until  [  found  myself  in  my  new  home. 
It  was  at  the  house  of  the  lady  who  had  purchased  me.  She 
came  and  asked  me  how  I  was,  as  I  lay  upon  a  bed,  in  a 
room  in  which  I  had  awaked  without  even  knowing  how  I 
was  brought  there.  I  begged  to  be  taken  back  to  my  mother. 
It  was  not  until  years  after  that  I  heard  anything  definite 
with  regard  to  her  fate.  Then  I  learned  that,  on  coming 
out  of  the  jail,  she  never  laughed  again,  or  spoke  unless 
she  was  addressed.  Her  spirit  was  crushed.  She  pined 
away,  and  her  owners  tried  to  sell  her ;  but  she  had  be 
come  unfit  for  any  labor,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few 
months  she  died." 

"  Your  own  mother  !  "  said  Bertha. 

"  Alas,  Bertha  !  "  continued  her  friend,  wiping  her  tears, 
"I  had  already  divined  her  fate.  For  a  long  time  after  I 
was  sold  I  felt  her  spirit  crying  out  for  me,  and  refusing 
to  be  comforted.  But  at  length  she  seemed  to  come  to  me  ; 
and  one  night  I  had  such  perfect  consciousness  of  her  pres 
ence,  that  I  firmly  believed  she  had  been  near.  The  next 


392  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

night,  I  felt  her  presence  again.  She  told  me  in  a  dream 
that  she  was  free,  and  that  she  would  be  with  me  always, 
to  guard  and  strengthen  me.  By  degrees  the  truth  re 
vealed  itself,  and  I  knew  her  spirit  had  attained  that  free 
dom  which  did  not  exist  for  her  on  earth. 

"  Like  Mrs.  Delisard,  my  new  mistress  was  a  widow  ; 
she  was  gay  and  independent ;  but  she  had  a  benevolent 
heart,  and  from  the  first  she  treated  me  with  a  great  deal 
of  kindness.  She  was  naturally  impatient ;  but,  as  I  be 
came  accustomed  to  her  habits  and  caprices,  I  could  wait 
upon  her  and  please  her  better  than  any  one  else.  I  think 
she  had  a  real  affection  for  me.  I  could  tell  you  a  great 
many  anecdotes  about  her  ;  but  I  will  relate  only  one  or 
two,  which  make  points  in  my  own  history.  As  I  had 
much  leisure  time,  I  used  to  amuse  myself  with  reading 
such  books  as  I  could  steal  from  the  library  and  return 
without  danger  of  discovery.  How  Mrs.  Beman  came  to 
suspect  the  habit,  I  never  knew  ;  but  one  day  she  said  to 
me,  '  Milly,  can  you  read  ?  '  'I  could  read  a  little  once,' 
I  acknowledged  tremblingly.  After  a  few  more  questions, 
which  I  answered  evasively,  she  said,  <  Take  my  advice, 
Milly,  and  don't  read  any  more.  It  is  a  bad  practice  for 
girls  in  your  condition.  Servants  have  no  business  with 
books.  Above  all,  don't  read  such  stories  as  The  Bride  of 
the  Forest ;  they  will  only  serve  to  put  idle  fancies  into 
your  head,  and  make  you  unhappy.' 

"  The  Bride  of  the  Forest  was  the  book  I  had  been  read 
ing  that  very  day !  I  said  nothing,  but  went  away  and 
cried.  That  night  Mrs.  Beman  called  me  to  her,  after  she 
was  in  bed.  (  Take  this  book,'  said  she,  <  and  show  me  how 
well  you  can  read.'  The  book  was  The  Bride  of  the  Forest ! 
I  felt  my  cheek  burn,  and  my  voice  trembled  as  I  read. 
But,  after  a  little  stammering,  I  got  on  very  well.  Mrs. 
Beman  praised  me.  '  It  is  quite  interesting,'  said  she. 
1  Continue  ;  but  don't  try  to  read  so  fast.'  I  was  encour 
aged.  I  read  chapter  after  chapter,  waiting  for  her  to  tell 


CONFESSIONS  393 

me  to  stop.  At  length  I  glanced  furtively  from  the  page, 
to  observe  her  expression.  She  was  fast  asleep.  From 
that  time  one  of  the  pleasantest  duties  I  had  to  perform 
was  to  read  her  to  sleep. 

"  An  unfortunate  occurrence  put  an  end  to  this  recrea 
tion.  Mrs.  Beman  married.  She  took  home  a  handsome 
husband,  several  years  younger  than  herself.  The  ser 
vants  said  among  themselves  that  he  married  her  for  her 
property,  and  she  him  for  his  beauty.  They  liked  the 
change ;  and  not  enough  could  be  said  in  praise  of  the  new 
master.  He  was  careless,  liberal,  and  indulgent.  Every 
body  was  happy  but  me.  I  found  the  coarse  society  of  the 
servants  a  poor  recompense  for  the  delicious  nights  I  used 
to  spend  reading  to  my  mistress. 

"  But  it  was  not  long  before  I  met  with  another  change 
of  fortune.  One  day  my  mistress  called  me  to  an  account. 
'  Milly/  said  she,  '  how  do  you  like  Mr.  Woodbridge  ? '  f  He 
is  a  good  master/  said  I;  'all  the  servants  like  him.'  'He 
is  kind  to  you,  Milly,  is  he  not  ?  '  '  Oh,  always  ! '  said  I. 
1  Indeed,'  said  my  mistress,  k  he  has  taken  a  particular  fancy 
to  you,  hasn't  he  ?  '  I  trembled,  and  blushed,  and  said  I 
didn't  know.  f  Oh/  said  she,  laughing,  —  it  was  a  laugh  I 
did  not  like,  — '  you  know  very  well  whether  he  fancies 
you  or  not.  Did  lie  ever  kiss  you  ?  '  —  <  No/  said  I  earnestly, 
1  he  never  did  !  ' —  <  Did  he  ever  try  ?  '  she  asked,  in  a  quiet, 
significant  tone,  which  told  me  that  she  knew  everything. 
*  Be  honest,  Milly,  and  tell  me  the  truth.' 

"  Although  I  had  learned  to  lie  in  her  service,  without 
doing  the  least  violence  to  my  conscience,  I  could  not  com 
pose  my  face  to  lie  to  her.  l  Yes/  said  I,  i  he  tried  once 

—  in  fun.'  —  <  And  once  afterward,  in  earnest  — eh,  Milly  ?  ' 

—  '  But  I  wouldn't  let  him  ! '   I  protested,  looking  her  full 
in  the  face.     <  I  believe  you/  said  my  mistress.     '  He  is 
coming/  she  added,  starting  from  her  seat.    <  Tell  him  I  am 
in  the  garden.' 

"  She  stepped  into  the  alcove,  just  as  Mr.  Woodbridge 


394  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

entered  the  room.  (  Where  is  your  mistress,  Milly  ? '  he 
asked.  '  I  don't  know,  sir,'  said  I.  '  I  reckon  she's  in  the 
garden.'  He  pulled  me  by  the  arm,  and  tried  to  make  me 
sit  upon  his  knee.  '  You  are  the  queerest  girl  that  ever 
was  ! '  said  he.  *  What's  the  reason  you  won't  let  me  kiss 
you  ?  '  I  told  him  that  he  was  my  mistress'  husband,  and 
that  she  was  very  fond  of  him.  <  And  so  am  I  of  her,'  said 
he ;  '  but  that  don't  hinder  my  liking  a  pretty  young  face 
like  yours,  you  know.  She  was  young  once,  but  that  was 
a  good  while  ago.  Don't  tell  her  I  said  so,  unless  you  want 
her  to  take  both  our  heads  off ! ' 

"He  was  trying  to  kiss  me  again,  and  I  was  fighting 
him  away,  when  he  suddenly  let  me  go.  My  mistress  was 
coming  out  of  the  alcove.  '  That  will  do,  George  ! '  said 
she,  smiling,  with  her  forefinger  raised.  But  her  cheek 
was  pale,  and  there  was  something  bitter  and  vindictive  in 
her  smile.  I  never  saw  so  blank  a  face  as  his  !  <  You  may 
go,  Milly,'  —  and  I  ran  from  the  room.  Two  or  three  days 
after,  she  called  me  to  her,  and,  talking  to  me  kindly, 
though  not  with  the  frank  good-nature  with  which  she 
used  to  talk  to  me,  told  me  she  thought  it  best  for  me  to 
have  another  mistress.  '  Don't  cry,  Milly/  said  she.  '  You 
are  a  good  girl,  and  I  have  found  a  good  mistress  for  you. 
It  is  Mrs.  Graves.  She  has  coveted  you  ever  since  I  told 
her,  long  ago,  that  I  had  a  servant  to  read  me  to  sleep. 
Her  husband  is  an  old  man ;  and  there  will  be  little  danger 
of  his  liking  you  too  well.' 

"  All  this  was  some  consolation.  But  I  was  attached  to 
Mrs.  Woodbridge,  and  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  leav 
ing  her.  I  did  not  know,  until  afterward,  how  really  kind 
she  had  been.  She  had  sold  me  at  a  sacrifice  to  Mrs. 
Graves,  in  order  to  secure  for  me  a  good  mistress ;  although 
she  might  have  obtained  a  much  higher  price  for  me  at  the 
hands  of  speculators." 

"How  strange  it  sounds,  to  hear  you  speak  of  being 
bought  and  sold  ! "  exclaimed  Bertha. 


CONFESSIONS  395 

"It  sounds  strange  to  me  too,  Bertha  !  All  this  part  of  my 
life  seems  like  a  dream,  as  I  look  back  upon  it.  Mrs.  Graves 
was  very  youiig.  She  had  married  when  a  mere  child,  to 
please  an  ambitious  parent ;  her  husband  was  old  and 
jealous.  She  had  suffered  extremely  before  I  saw  her;  but 
she  had  naturally  a  patient  temper  and  a  spiritual  mind, 
and  she  found  her  consolation  in  the  deep  realities  of  a 
religious  life.  I  never  cease  to  be  thankful  to  the  kind 
Providence  that  placed  me  under  her  influence.  As  her 
husband's  jealousy  shut  her  out  from  society,  she  made  a 
companion  and  confidant  of  me  ;  and  I  grew  up  with  her 
much  like  a  younger  sister.  She  first  taught  me  the  beauty 
of  truth;  and  her  gentle  words  found  always  such  sweet 
echoes  in  my  heart,  that  I  asked  no  greater  privilege  than 
to  sit  at  her  feet,  with  tears  of  tenderness  in  my  eyes,  and 
listen.  She  used  to  tell  me  that  nobody  in  the  world  knew 
her  but  me.  I  am  sure  there  was  no  one  else  to  whom  she 
could  talk  of  that  which  was  nearest  her  heart.  The  little 
society  she  saw  consisted  of  worldly  and  superficial  people, 
with  whom  she  could  feel  no  sympathy.  Her  chief  conso 
lation,  out  of  herself,  was  books,  which  I  used  to  read  to 
her.  But  the  volumes  she  chose  were  different  from  those 
I  read  to  Mrs.  Beman.  She  took  great  delight  in  the  Gos 
pels  ;  I  used  often  to  read  a  passage,  then  together  wre 
would  seek  for  its  interior  meaning.  0  Bertha !  how  won 
derful  are  all  those  sayings  of  our  Saviour !  I  had  read 
them  before,  without  understanding  them.  To  Mrs.  Graves 
I  owed  the  revelation  of  their  spirit.  The  love,  the  wis 
dom,  the  beauty,  of  that  spirit,  widened,  and  deepened,  and 
brightened,  day  by  day,  as  I  studied  under  her  instruction. 
Next  to  the  Scriptures,  there  were  a  few  books  of  essays 
and  philosophy  that  gratified  her  most.  Then  I  read 
choice  volumes  of  travels,  history,  poetry,  and  romance. 
So  three  years  passed.  I  was  seventeen,  when  Richard,  a 
nephew  of  Mr.  Graves,  came  home  from  Germany,  where 
he  had  been  studying.  He  visited  us  often ;  and  I  soon 


396  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

discovered  a  strong  sympathy  between  him  and  his  youth 
ful  aunt.  She  confessed  to  him  her  aspirations  and  her 
faith ;  and,  in  return,  he  imparted  to  her  the  results  of  his 
philosophical  studies,  with  reminiscences  of  his  foreign 
tour.  He  was  surprised  to  find  that,  with  her  own  intui 
tive  perceptions,  she  had  discerned  truths  which  he  had 
arrived  at  only  with  great  labor.  But,  with  all  his  learn 
ing,  she  became  his  teacher.  Like  me,  he  sat  at  her  feet, 
and  listened  with  tearful  eyes.  Sometimes  she  spoke  like 
one  inspired,  putting  all  his  philosophy  aside ;  then  she 
would  ask  his  forgiveness,  sweetly  and  humbly,  telling  him 
that  she  knew  nothing,  and  that  it  was  not  herself  that 
spoke. 

"  I  was  nearly  always  present  at  their  interviews.  Some 
times  Mr.  Graves  was  in  the  room ;  then  his  wife  would  tell 
me  gently  that  I  could  retire.  If  he  went  away,  I  was  re 
called.  But  this  state  of  things  could  not  continue.  One 
evening  Mr.  Graves  came  suddenly  upon  us,  when  we  sup 
posed  him  fifty  miles  away.  In  the  morning  he  had  given 
out  word  that  he  was  going  upon  a  journey,  to  be  absent  a 
couple  of  days.  He  had  remained  in  town  to  watch.  When 
he  entered,  Richard  was  on  the  floor  ;  Mrs.  Graves  sat  upon 
an  ottoman,  holding  his  head  in  her  lap.  The  night  was 
warm;  the  doors  were  all  flung  open;  there  was  no  light 
but  the  glimmer  of  the  moon  which  shone  through  the  win 
dows.  The  old  man  crept  in  like  a  cat.  I  cannot  describe 
the  scene  that  ensued.  Mrs.  Graves,  in  her  gentlest  tones, 
called  me  to  witness  her  innocence.  Until  that  moment 
he  had  not  been  aware  of  my  presence.  I  hastened  from 
the  obscure  corner  where  I  sat ;  but  the  sight  of  me  ap 
peared  only  to  enrage  him  the  more.  He  knew  the  confi 
dence  Mrs.  Graves  placed  in  me,  and  believed  me  a  mere 
tool,  that  could  be  blind,  deaf,  and  dumb,  in  her  service,  as 
occasion  required.  Richard  was  driven  from  the  house. 
He  would  have  set  up  a  defence,  but  Mrs.  Graves  requested 
him  to  go.  She  was  calm  and  resigned,  and  only  said,  in 


CONFESSIONS  397 

answer  to  her  husband's  charges,  that  he  did  his  own  soul 
injustice.  Her  innocence  appeared  a  shield  from  which  his 
shafts  glanced  off  harmlessly.  Unfortunately  they  struck 
me.  Some  sacrifice  to  his  rage  was  necessary.  Richard 
had  gone  too  quietly  ;  his  wife  was  too  patient  under  the 
stroke.  To  tear  her  heart,  he  resolved  that  I  should  go 
too.  This  was  the  third  great  blow  of  my  life.  But  it  fell 
more  heavily  upon  me  than  either  my  father's  death  or  the 
separation  from  my  mother,  because  I  was  now  of  an  age 
to  appreciate  all  my  loss.  Another  such  mistress  did  not 
exist  on  earth.  I  was  once  more  a  slave.  I  was  young ;  I 
was  not  without  some  personal  attractions;  I  was  at  the 
mercy  of  whoever  might  purchase  me.  Once  more  I  was 
sold.  The  affair  was  concluded  before  even  Mrs.  Graves 
suspected  the  turn  her  husband's  vengeance  had  taken.  I 
knew  nothing  of  it  until  the  morning  I  was  carried  away. 
Ah,  Bertha !  I  can  tell  you  nothing  of  the  agony  of  that 
day !  " 

"  But  it  is  terrible,"  said  Bertha,  "  to  be  subject  to  the 
caprices  of  a  mean  and  revengeful  old  man !  His  wife, 
—  could  she  do  nothing  for  you  ?  " 

"  How  could  she  ?  Although  her  servant,  I  was  his 
property.  I  was  torn  from  her  arms,  and  placed  in  a  close 
carriage,  which  bore  me  away  from  her  forever.  My  new 
owner  accompanied  me.  He  was  a  speculator,  who  had 
been  for  a  few  days  at  New  Orleans  transacting  business 
with  Mr.  Graves.  He  was  taking  me  to  Mobile.  I  can 
only  describe  him  as  one  of  those  smooth,  pleasant  men, 
with  something  indefinably  bad  and  repulsive  in  their 
natures,  from  which  we  shrink  instinctively.  He  tried  to 
cheer  me,  by  telling  me  gayly,  that  one  good  master  was 
worth  forty  good  mistresses,  for  a  handsome  young  girl 
like  me.  We  reached  Mobile  that  afternoon.  His  wife 
met  us  on  our  arrival.  She  was  a  passionate  woman,  with 
a  certain  plumpness  and  fairness  about  her,  which  passed 
with  many  for  beauty.  But  she  looked  anything  but 


398  NEIGHBOR  JACEWOOD 

beautiful  to  me  then.  '  For  Heaven's  sake,  doctor  ! '  she 
cried, '  what  have  you  got  there  ? '  —  <  Only  a  bit  of  a  specu 
lation,'  said  my  new  master,  with  a  laugh.  f  I  bought  her 
for  seven  hundred/  he  added,  in  a  low  tone,  '  arid  if  I  don't 
get  twelve  for  her  within  as  many  days,  I'll  give  her  to 
you.  You  shall  have  that  new  shawl  the  day  I  get  her  off 
my  hands.'  Ah,  Bertha !  you  never  knew  what  it  was  to 
be  the  property  of  a  base  and  selfish  man  !  No  law  to  pro 
tect  me ;  no  friend  to  whom  I  could  appeal ;  no  chance  or 
hope  of  escape,  —  what  could  I  do  ?  He  could  not  compre 
hend  how  a  person  in  my  condition  should  resist  him ;  and 
the  longer  I  evaded  his  pursuit,  the  more  desperate  and 
determined  he  became.  At  length,  —  it  was  after  the  lapse 
of  several  months,  there  came  a  change.  0  Bertha!  if  I 
had  the  courage  to  draw  the  dark  picture  of  those  months  i 
—  but  let  them  pass  ! 

"Dr.  Tanwood  was  frequently  absent,  on  affairs  of  busi 
ness  or  pleasure ;  at  which  times  his  wife  was  in  the  habit 
of  receiving  visitors,  who  rarely  came  when  he  was  sup 
posed  to  be  at  home.  I  should  tell  you  that,  in  the  mean 
while,  the  twelve  days  having  long  since  elapsed  during 
which  I  was  to  have  been  sold,  he  had  gone  through  with 
the  mockery  of  giving  me  to  his  wife.  She  was  naturally 
an  extravagant  and  luxurious  woman ;  and  the  gratification 
of  having  me  to  dress  her,  and  wait  upon  her,  and  fan  her 
as  she  lolled  upon  her  favorite  lounge,  had  partly  recon 
ciled  her  to  my  presence.  One  evening  she  sent  me  to  say 
to  a  visitor,  who  was  waiting  in  the  parlor,  that  she  would 
be  with  him  in  two  minutes,  —  which  meant  ten.  As  I 
entered,  he  looked  at  me  strangely  as  he  had  often  done 
before,  for  he  had  been  frequently  at  the  house,  and  as  I 
was  retiring,  he  called  me  back.  I  asked  him  what  he 
would  have.  '  You  can  put  away  my  hat/  said  he.  But, 
as  I  went  to  take  it,  he  held  it,  and  looked  up  in  my  face. 
'  What  is  your  name  ?  ' —  '  Camille/  said  I ;  '  people  call  me 
Milly.'  — '  Camille/  said  he,  '  I  am  a  Northern  man.  There 


CONFESSIONS  399 

is  something  I  would  say  to  you,  if  I  dared.'  I  was  fright 
ened  by  the  wild  thoughts  that  rushed  through  my  brain. 
'You  understand  me,'  he  said.  '  Yes,'  I  answered;  'and 
you  may  dare  to  say  anything  ! '  -  —  <  Can  you  read  ? '  - 
1  Yes.'  —  '  And  write  ?  '  -  —  (  Yes.'  —  '  You  have  heard  of  the 
Northern  States  ?  '  said  he.  l  The  free  States  ! '  I  answered. 
'  Good  ! '  said  he.  '  There  is  no  need  of  explanations.  Go 
now.  I  will  see  you  again.' 

"  I  ran  back  trembling  to  my  mistress.  She  was  dress 
ing,  and  scolded  me  for  leaving  her  so  long  alone.  I  as 
sisted  her,  scarce  knowing  what  I  did ;  but  I  finished  the 
task  without  exciting  her  suspicions,  and  she  swept  into 
the  parlor.  Presently  she  summoned  me,  and  called  for 
wine  and  glasses.  *  For  Mr.  Roberts,'  said  she  languidly, 
with  a  wave  of  her  fan,  as  I  re-entered  with  a  salver. 
Mr.  Roberts  took  a  glass  and  handed  it  to  her ;  then  taking 
one  for  himself,  he  dropped  a  little  ball  of  paper  upon  the 
salver.  You  can  imagine  the  eagerness  with  which  I  un 
rolled  it,  and  examined  its  contents,  the  moment  I  was 
alone.  There  were  four  lines,  written  with  a  pencil,  which 
I  will  repeat,  if  I  have  not  forgotten  them :  — 

"  Would  ye  know  how  young  Ellen  deceived  the  old  couple  ? 

In  a  sweet  little  billet,  directed  to  Pat, 
She  wrote  all  her  sorrow,  her  hopes,  and  her  trouble, 
And  pinned  it  one  night  in  the  crown  of  his  hat." 

"  It  was  not  easy  to  forget  those  lines,  Bertha !  I 
thought  I  discovered  in  Mr.  Roberts  a  generous  and  adven 
turous  spirit,  that  might  be  of  infinite  service  if  I  would 
trust  him.  I  stole  pencil  and  paper  from  the  doctor's 
office,  and,  carrying  them  to  the  garret,  wrote  a  hurried 
account  of  <  poor  Ellen,'  who  in  the  despair  of  her  state, 
was  ready  to  adopt  any  measures  to  escape  from  the 
tyranny  of  the  aged  couple.  Had  the  note  actually  fallen 
into  my  mistress'  hands,  I  doubt  if  she  would  have  under 
stood  it.  I  think  she  was  not  even  aware  that  I  could 


400  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

write.  But  it  did  not  fall  into  her  hands.  I  secreted  it  in 
the  lining  of  the  visitor's  hat,  which  I  had  previously 
placed  upon  the  hall-table.  Thus  our  correspondence 
began.  When  he  came  again,  I  found  another  communi 
cation  where  I  had  placed  mine.  It  was  in  rhyme,  which 
he  appeared  to  have  a  talent  for  composing ;  and  in  it  I 
read,  with  trembling  interest,  the  assurance  that  Patrick 
O'Rooney  would  devise  speedy  means  for  the  deliverance 
of  poor  Ellen. 

"  I  had  now  strong  hopes  of  escaping  from  my  precari 
ous  situation.  It  was  time.  Irritated  by  my  constant 
evasions,  the  doctor  had  threatened  to  sell  me  to  a  coarse 
and  brutal  man,  whom  he  brought  to  the  house  to  intimi 
date  me.  *  He  has  offered  a  thousand  dollars  for  you,'  said 
he,  '  and  if  I  can't  tame  you,  he  shall.  He  has  no  jealous 
wife  to  stand  in  the  way.'  The  menace  served  to  accel 
erate  the  crisis.  I  found  Mr.  Roberts  resolute  and  ingeni 
ous.  Indeed,  his  extraordinary  audacity  alarmed  me  more 
than  once.  He  came  almost  every  evening,  bringing  me 
messages  in  his  hat.  I  wondered  how  Mrs.  Tanwood 
could  avoid  seeing  that  his  visits  were  designed  for  me ; 
but  she  was  infatuated,  and  believed  that  she  had  charmed 
him  to  that  point. 

"  On  one  occasion  he  brought  an  acquaintance,  whom  he 
introduced  to  Mrs.  Tanwood.  Ah,  Bertha !  it  is  with 
strange  feelings  that  I  recall  the  incidents  of  that  night! 
The  acquaintance  was  HECTOR  !  How  well  I  remember 
him,  when  I  saw  him  for  the  second  time  at  your  house, 
there  on  the  hill !  " 

"  You  had  seen  him,  then  ! "  exclaimed  Bertha.  "  Tell 
about  it ! " 

"  Indeed,  there  is  not  much  to  tell.  I  was  afraid  of  him, 
and  wished  him  away.  Mr.  Roberts  had  been  wise  enough 
not  to  call  his  attention  to  me ;  it  seemed  to  me,  however, 
when  I  met  him  at  your  house,  that  my  features  were  fixed 
in  his  memory,  and  that  I  could  not  move  or  speak  without 


CONFESSIONS  401 

danger  of  recognition.  One  incident  I  thought  surely  would 
recur  to  him  at  sight  of  me.  Mr.  Roberts  brought  me  a 
small  bundle  that  night,  which  I  had  taken  from  his  hat, 
and  concealed  in  a  barrel  in  the  garret,  during  their  visit. 
On  going  away,  Hector  observed  his  friend's  hat,  and  spoke 
of  this  package.  <  Do  you  take  me  for  a  lackey  ? '  cried 
Mr.  Roberts,  with  a  laugh.  '  You  certainly  had  a  pack 
age,'  said  Hector,  '  for  I  remarked  it  both  in  the  street  and 
after  we  came  in.'  My  mistress  called  me,  to  know  what 
I  had  done  with  it.  I  am  good  for  nothing  when  a  sudden 
shock  comes  upon  me,  and  coolness  and  self-possession  are 
required  to  turn  aside  suspicion.  I  trembled,  and  felt  my 
cheek  change  color ;  but  before  I  had  time  to  reply,  Mr. 
Roberts  declared  that  it  was  a  joke  of  his  friend's ;  and 
I  took  advantage  of  the  discussion  which  ensued  to  escape 
from  observation.'' 

"What  was  the  package  ?"  asked  Bertha. 

"  It  contained  articles  destined  for  my  disguise  ;  I  had 
been  unable  to  get  them  myself,  and  Mr.  Roberts  had 
engaged  to  procure  them  for  me.  I  need  not  tell  you  with 
what  anxiety  I  now  counted  the  days  and  hours  and 
minutes.  At  last,  0  Bertha !  at  last  the  night  of  all 
nights  in  my  life  was  at  hand  !  There  was  so  much  de 
pending  upon  the  secrecy  of  my  movements,  and  such 
fatality  might  topple  down,  like  an  avalanche,  at  the  touch 
of  the  slightest  accident,  that  I  prayed  continually  for  the 
guidance  of  a  power  above  my  own. 

"  For  some  weeks  I  had  been  accustomed  to  make  my 
bed  on  the  kitchen  floor  with  the  cook.  She  was  no  very 
pleasant  companion ;  she  was  decrepit  and  cross  ;  more  than 
that,  she  affected  to  despise  and  hate  me,  because  I  was 
white.  She  suspected,  however,  the  reasons  why  I  pre 
ferred  her  company  to  sleeping  in  a  room  alone,  and  suf 
fered  me  to  occupy  a  corner  of  her  dormitory.  I  spread 
out  my  bed  that  night,  and,  lying  down  as  usual,  pretended 
soon  to  be  fast  asleep.  She  was  in  a  grumbling  mood,  and 


402  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

talked  in  her  worst  style  for  over  an  hour ;  but  I  made  no 
reply ;  and  at  length,  becoming  weary  of  her  muttered 
soliloquy,  she  turned  over,  and  became  silent.  About  an 
hour  later  the  doctor  came  home.  The  clock  had  just 
struck  twelve.  I  heard  him  enter  softly,  and  take  off  his 
boots  before  going  up-stairs.  He  had  reasons  for  not 
wishing  to  disturb  his  wife ;  and,  notwithstanding  all  that 
had  passed,  he  still  entertained  hopes  of  finding  me  in  the 
garret.  I  listened  with  a  beating  heart ;  and,  after  a  long 
silence,  I  heard  his  stealthy  steps  again  on  the  stairs.  He 
came  to  the  kitchen,  and  spoke  to  me.  It  was  dark,  and 
I  lay  still  as  death,  hoping  that  he  would  go  away ;  but 
there  was  nothing  to  prevent  his  entering  the  room,  and  he 
came  in  on  tiptoe.  My  only  resource  was  to  rouse  old 
Juno,  and  I  shook  her  arm  ;  but  her  sleep  was  so  heavy 
that  I  could  not  awaken  her.  The  doctor  attempted  to 
take  me  from  her,  and  for  a  week  after  I  carried  the  mark 
of  his  hand  upon  my  arm.  The  struggle  awoke  the  cook  ; 
I  was  saved.  After  the  doctor  was  gone,  she  lay  down 
again  in  her  corner,  chuckling  at  his  discomfiture.  It  was 
not  long  before  she  was  again  asleep,  and  all  was  still  in 
the  house.  My  great  fear  then  was  that  he  would  return  ; 
I  lay  listening  for  hours.  At  three  o'clock,  hearing  110 
sound,  I  got  up,  and  stole  softly  from  the  kitchen.  His 
office  was  on  the  same  floor.  His  wife's  apartments  were 
on  the  floor  above.  I  had  to  pass  these  to  arrive  at  the 
garret ;  but  first  I  took  the  precaution  to  unlatch  the  street 
door.  After  waiting  some  time  to  ascertain  that  no  one 
was  disturbed,  I  ascended  the  stairs,  pausing  and  listening 
at  every  step. 

"Well,  I  reached  the  garret,  and  all  was  still.  I  then 
groped  my  way  to  the  barrel,  where  I  had  concealed  my 
disguise,  together  with  a  candle,  necessary  in  making  my 
toilet.  I  struck  a  light,  and  proceeded  to  adjust  my  cos 
tume  before  a  fragment  of  glass  stuck  against  the  wall.  I 
had  an  old  and  faded  merino  dress,  which  I  had  arranged 


CONFESSIONS  403 

for  the  occasion.  The  articles  Mr.  Roberts  had  brought 
me  I  had  prepared  by  stealth,  and  they  were  all  ready  to 
put  on.  There  was  a  wig  of  gray  hair,  and  old-fashioned 
spectacles,  with  colored  glasses ;  in  addition  to  which  I 
had  an  old  woman's  cap,  and  a  bonnet  that  shaded  my 
face.  The  most  difficult  thing  of  all  was  to  color  my  com 
plexion,  to  give  it  that  wrinkled  appearance  characteristic 
of  old  age.  But  this  I  had  already  done  once  before,  to 
give  Mrs.  Graves  an  evening's  entertainment;  and  had  at 
that  time  succeeded  so  well,  even  in  deceiving  the  mem 
bers  of  the  house,  that  I  felt  confidence  in  adopting  the 
disguise  for  a  more  serious  adventure. 

"  At  length  all  was  arranged  ;  and,  looking  in  the  glass, 
I  was  half  frightened  at  the  image  that  met  my  view.  It 
was  no  longer  myself,  but  a  veritable  old  woman.  So  far, 
all  was  wrell ;  but,  0  Bertha,  so  much  yet  remained  to  be 
done  !  I  had  first  to  descend  the  stairs,  with  a  small 
bundle  of  clothes  in  one  hand,  and  my  shoes  in  the  other, 
pausing  and  listening  at  every  step,  as  before.  I  succeeded 
in  passing  the  hall  —  then  how  glad  I  was  I  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  leave  the  door  slightly  ajar  !  I  glided  into  the 
street,  and  put  on  my  shoes.  The  city  lay  around  me,  like  a 
wilderness,  so  silent  and  deserted  that  the  sound  of  my  own 
footsteps  startled  me.  The  stars  were  just  beginning  to 
wane  before  the  light  of  day.  On  the  corner,  where  I  ex 
pected  to  meet  my  friend  and  guide,  I  encountered  three  or 
four  intoxicated  men,  who  accosted  me,  and  refused  to  let 
me  pass,  until  I  had  answered  their  tipsy  questions.  I 
dared  not  cry  for  help ;  for  I  knew  not  which  most  to  fear, 
them,  or  the  city  watchman.  Fortunately,  at  this  crisis, 
Mr.  Roberts  appeared,  and  rescued  me  from  their  hands. 
I  got  away,  and  hastened  along  the  street.  In  a  little 
while  he  rejoined  me ;  then  first  I  felt  that  I  was  safe  ;  but 
he  had  bad  news  to  tell  me,  which  left  me  little  time  to  re 
joice.  He  had  engaged  the  captain  of  a  merchant  ship, 
whom,  he  had  interested  in  my  behalf,  to  carry  me  to  New 


404  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

York.  His  vessel  lay  down  the  bay,  and  he  was  to  send  a 
boat  at  daybreak,  to  take  me  on  board.  The  evening  pre 
vious,  however,  he  had  sent  word,  at  a  late  hour,  that  the 
day  of  sailing  was  postponed ;  so  the  boat  would  not  come 
for  me  until  the  next  night.  Mr.  Roberts  told  me  not  to 
be  discouraged.  '  Of  course/  said  he,  <  you  are  not  anx 
ious  to  go  back.'  Go  back !  I  did  not  know  what  would 
tempt  me  to  go  through  again  what  I  had  that  night 
suffered  !  '  Well,'  said  he,  '  the  sooner  you  are  out  of  the 
city,  the  better.  There  are  boats  going  down  to  the 
bay  at  all  hours  of  the  morning,  and  I  see  no  reason  why 
one  of  them  can't  be  engaged  to  put  you  on  board  the 
Manhattan.'  We  reached  the  river,  and,  walking  along  the 
wharves,  found  two  men  preparing  to  push  off.  My  com 
panion  addressed  them ;  but  he  did  not  like  their  appear 
ance  ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  was  afraid  to  trust  myself  alone 
in  their  charge." 

"  Mr.  Roberts  was  not  going  with  you,  then  ?  "  said 
Bertha. 

"  Oh,  no ;  but  I  will  tell  you  about  that.  Near  by  we 
saw  an  old  man  and  a  boy,  bailing  water  out  of  a  sail-boat ; 
and  Mr.  Roberts  proceeded  to  make  a  bargain  with  them  for 
my  passage.  '  She  is  a  poor  old  woman,'  said  he,  '  whose 
son  has  run  away,  and  she  wants  to  catch  him  before 
he  sails.'  The  regret,  anxiety,  joy, — 0  Bertha!  you  can 
imagine  what  I  felt  as  I  took  leave  of  him,  and  stepped 
into  the  boat.  He  remained  standing  upon  the  wharf ;  the 
old  man  pushed  off  ;  a  fair  wind  filled  the  sail,  and  in 
a  few  moments  the  only  friend  I  then  had  in  the  wide 
world  was  lost  to  sight. 

"  The  sun  was  near  two  hours  high  when  we  approached 
the  Fleet,  as  it  is  called  ;  and  the  old  man  pointed  out  to 
me  the  Manhattan,  riding  at  anchor  in  the  bay.  We  had  a 
good  breeze ;  and  in  a  little  while  we  sailed  alongside.  My 
heart  stood  still  when  the  old  man  hailed  for  the  captain. 
The  reply  came  that  he  was  ashore,  and  would  not  come 


CONFESSIONS  405 

on  board  until  ten  o'clock.  I  was  greatly  alarmed  at  this  ; 
but,  fortunately,  I  was  recognized  by  the  mate,  who  was  in 
the  secret,  and  who  received  me  on  board.  The  old  man 
and  his  son  were  sent  away,  and  I  was  conducted  to  the 
stateroom  secured  for  me.  Oh,  when  the  door  was  shut, 
and  I  was  alone,  —  and  safe,  —  0  Bertha,  how  my  heart 
overflowed  in  prayers  and  tears  !  I  lay  down  in  my  berth ; 
and  I  was  so  exhausted  and  weary  that  I  soon  fell  asleep. 
A  rap  at  my  door  awakened  me.  I  was  foolish  enough  to 
be  frightened,  imagining  that  my  master  had  come  ;  but 
presently  I  summoned  courage,  and. turned  back  the  bolt. 
A  bronzed,  bright,  benevolent  face  looked  in  upon  me ;  it 
was  the  captain,  whom  I  knew  at  once  as  a  friend.  He 
assured  me  that  the  vessel  would  sail  on  the  following  day, 
and,  on  hearing  my  story,  offered  to  bet  heavy  sums  that 
nobody  would  think  of  looking  for  me  on  board  his  ship. 

"I  was  more  grateful  than  my  words  could  express. 
The  day  and  night  dragged  slowly ;  but,  oh,  I  was  patient, 
Bertha,  and  my  heart  was  full  of  a  new  joy.  I  was  free  ! 
At  last  the  time  of  sailing  arrived ;  what,  then,  was  my  sur 
prise,  on  receiving  a  visit  from  Mr.  Roberts  !  I  was  still 
more  surprised  to  learn  that  he  had  come  on  board  with 
his  baggage,  resolved  upon  making  the  voyage  with  me  ! 
Then,  Bertha,  I  began  to  have  a  clearer  insight  into  the 
heart  of  that  man.  He  had  intended  going  with  me  from 
the  first." 

"  Why  had  he  deceived  you  ?  " 

"  Before  my  escape,  he  had  expressed,  in  one  of  his 
notes,  sentiments  which  I  disliked ;  and  I  had  replied  that 
if  such  were  his  motives  in  assisting  me,  I  must  decline 
those  services  which  I  could  not  repay  in  the  manner  he 
seemed  to  anticipate.  He  was  not  a  man  I  could  ever  re 
gard  otherwise  than  as  a  friend,  and  I  told  him  so.  He 
denied  the  motives  I  imputed  to  him ;  but,  Bertha,  when 
we  met  on  board  the  ship,  I  could  no  longer  shut  my  mind 
to  a  truth  which  had  been  whispered  to  me  continually.  I 


406  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

had  charged  my  heart  with  ingratitude  and  injustice,  and 
refused  to  believe  what  it  said.  Now,  however,  it  was  but 
too  plainly  revealed.  Selfishness  was  the  mainspring  of 
his  conduct,  and  all  that  he  had  done  for  me  was  marred. 

"  Once  at  sea,  I  abandoned  my  disguise,  and  often  ap 
peared  upon  deck  with  no  other  attempt  at  concealment 
than  a  simple  veil  thrown  over  my  face.  When  off  the 
coast  of  Florida,  we  had  fine  breezes,  the  sea  was  surpass 
ingly  beautiful,  and  the  sky  was  of  a  clear,  deep,  heavenly 
blue,  which  filled  my  soul  with  wonder  and  joy.  There 
was  but  one  cloud  above  my  horizon.  It  appeared  in  the 
form  of  Mr.  Roberts.  One  day,  to  escape  him,  I  retreated 
to  my  room ;  but  he  followed  me,  and,  by  an  unworthy 
stratagem,  succeeded  in  gaining  admittance.  We  were  the 
only  passengers,  and  the  sole  occupants  of  the  cabin  at  the 
time  ;  and  I  was  in  his  power.  As  an  excuse  for  his  vio 
lence,  he  had  the  baseness  to  remind  me  of  what  I  owed  to 
him,  and  to  charge  me  with  ingratitude.  <  It  is  true,'  said 
I,  '  I  owe  you  my  liberty,  and  in  return  I  will  give  you  my 
life.'  I  said  this  despairingly,  for  I  was  ready  to  die. 
He  declared  impetuously  that  I  was  wrong  to  speak  so ; 
for  it  was  only  my  love  he  sought.  l  But,'  said  I,  (  your 
approach  will  kill  me !  I  give  you  that  warning.' 

"  I  no  longer  held  him  from  me ;  but  as  he  caught  me  in 
his  arms,  he  felt  a  hard  substance  strike  him.  Starting 
aside,  he  caught  the  glimpse  of  a  knife-handle,  and  thought 
I  had  stabbed  him ;  but,  as  he  released  me,  I  fell  back ; 
and  then  he  saw  that  the  blade  was  in  my  own  breast." 

"  You  had  stabbed  yourself  !  " 

"  No,  Bertha.  But  I  had  placed  the  knife  between  us. 
It  was  one  I  had  borrowed  of  the  captain  on  some  pre 
tence  ;  the  blade  was  broad  and  sharp  ;  but,  fortunately, 
the  point  had  become  entangled  in  my  handkerchief,  in 
which  I  held  it  concealed.  I  suffered  from  a  deathly  faint- 
ness,  but  I  did  not  quite  lose  my  consciousness  at  any 
moment ;  I  placed  my  handkerchief  upon  the  wound,  to 


CONFESSIONS  407 

stop  the  blood,  and  entreated  Mr.  Roberts,  with  all  my  re 
maining  force,  to  have  mercy  upon  me,  and  leave  me. 
Overcome  with  horror  and  remorse,  he  fell  upon  his  knees, 
and  prayed  to  be  forgiven,  and  to  be  permitted  to  atone  for 
his  wrong.  He  hastened  to  bring  me  linen  from  his  trunk  ; 
but  1  locked  the  door,  and  would  not  let  him  return.  After 
wards,  when  I  was  stronger,  I  washed  and  dressed  the 
wound  myself,  and  left  nature  to  do  the  rest.  I  appealed 
to  the  captain  for  protection,  and  found  in  him  a  genuine, 
hearty  friend.  As  the  voyage  approached  its  termination, 
he  asked  me  what  I  proposed  to  do  on  my  arrival  at  New 
York.  I  showed  him  a  letter  which  Mr.  Roberts  had  pre 
viously  given  me  to  a  person  in  that  city,  who,  he  said, 
would  assist  me  in  reaching  Canada.  '  But,  since  he  is 
with  me,'  said  I,  { I  no  longer  know  what  to  do.' 

"  How  well  he  managed,  you  will  know,  when  I  tell  you 
that,  on  arriving  in  New  York,  I  was  taken  secretly  from 
his  ship  at  night,  and  placed  on  board  a  sloop,  bound  up 
the  North  River.  He  had,  by  chance,  met  a  skipper  of  his 
acquaintance,  who  was  to  sail  with  the  first  wind,  and  who 
promised  to  land  me  in  Troy  free  of  expense.  How  for 
tune  seemed  to  favor  me,  Bertha  !  I  was  on  my  way  to 
Canada  before  Mr.  Roberts  knew  I  had  left  the  ship. 

"  As  I  was  travelling  alone,  I  had  followed  Captain 
Damon's  prudent  counsel,  and  resumed  my  disguise.  l  An 
old  woman,'  he  said,  '  will  get  along  much  better  among  a 
certain  class  of  people  than  a  young  girl.'  I  had  had  ex 
perience  enough  to  believe  him.  He  put  into  my  hands  a 
letter  for  a  brother  of  his  at  Whitehall,  which  he  said  was 
directly  on  my  route,  assuring  me  that,  on  its  delivery,  I 
would  find  a  friend  to  forward  me  safely  upon  my  journey. 
Three  days  after  quitting  the  Manhattan,  I  was  landed  at 
Troy,  as  the  skipper  had  promised.  But  he  did  not  leave 
me  until  he  had  placed  me  on  board  a  canal-boat  bound  for 
Whitehall,  and  made  a  bargain  for  my  passage,  which  I 
paid  with  money  Captain  Damon  had  given  me  for  the  pur- 


408  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

pose.  Thus  far  I  had  played  my  part  so  well  that  no  per 
son,  not  even  the  skipper,  suspected  that  my  age  was  less 
than  three  score." 

"  I  cannot  conceive  how  you  could  do  it !  "  said  Bertha. 

"  It  was  not  so  difficult  as  you  imagine.  People  do  not 
scrutinize  old  women.  I  pretended  to  have  a  catarrh, 
which  obliged  me  to  wear  my  bonnet ;  then  I  dressed  to 
disguise  my  form,  and  wore  old  gloves  upon  my  hands. 
I  experienced  more  difficulty  in  managing  the  tones  of  my 
voice  than  in  all  the  rest.  But  I  have  a  respectable  talent 
at  mimicry,  and  succeeded  even  in  that ;  although  I  fancy 
people  must  have  thought  me  exceedingly  quiet  for  an  old 
lady.  Few,  I  think,  ever  felt  less  ambition  to  talk  ! 

"Everything  happened  favorably  until  my  arrival  at 
Whitehall,  when,  to  my  consternation,  I  learned  that  Cap 
tain  Damon's  brother  had  removed  into  the  country,  on 
account  of  ill-health.  As  I  had  no  means  of  getting  to 
Canada  without  assistance,  I  obtained  his  address,  and  set 
out  on  foot,  the  same  evening,  to  find  him: 

"  I  had  not  gone  far  before  I  ascertained  that  the  dis 
tance  was  much  greater  than  I  had  suspected.  I  walked 
four  miles  that  night,  and  stopped  to  rest  at  a  farmhouse. 
I  was  allowed  to  sleep  in  the  barn.  At  another  house  I 
begged  a  breakfast.  This  house  proved  to  be  that  of  Mr. 
Jack  wood's  brother-in-law,  in  Sawney  Hook ;  it  was  there  I 
first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Grandmother  Eigglesty. 

"  I  was  now  among  the  mountains,  in  the  midst  of  new 
and  surprising  scenery.  I  walked  far  in  the  cool  of  the 
day  ;  when  I  became  tired,  I  sat  down  on  the  roadside,  and 
listened  to  the  singing  of  the  birds.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  enjoyed  that  morning !  Hope  and  freedom  inspired 
me  ;  but  hope  and  freedom  did  not  prevent  my  becoming 
faint  and  weary,  long  before  noon.  But,  as  I  was  fast  ap 
proaching  the  house  I  was  in  search  of,  I  kept  on,  and 
arrived  in  sight  of  it  at  about  one  o'clock.  I  was  alarmed 
to  find  a  number  of  carriages  at  the  fence,  and  a  group  of 


CONFESSIONS  409 

solemn  people  near  the  door.  Presently  a  coffin  was 
brought  out,  and  placed  in  a  wagon  ;  then  the  people  began 
to  get  into  their  carriages,  and  a  procession  was  formed. 

"  I  sat  down  upon  a  stone  by  the  road,  and  waited  for 
the  funeral  to  pass.  Presently  two  men  came  out  on  foot, 
and  stopped  to  talk  near  the  place  where  I  sat.  I  inquired 
if  that  was  Mr.  Damon's  house. 

"'That  was  Charles  Damon's  house,'  one  of  them  replied, 
'but  he  has  moved.'  I  was  so  disturbed  at  this  that  I  could 
scarcely  speak,  to  ask  where  he  had  gone.  '  He  has  just 
gone  down  the  road,'  the  man  said.  (  You  will  hud  his 
new  house  in  the  graveyard  just  over  the  hill.  It  is  a 
house  of  but  one  story,  and  that  is  built  under  ground.' 

"  I  was  trying  to  collect  my  thoughts,  and  wondering 
what  I  should  do,  when  the  men  began  to  discuss  an  item 
of  news  which  frightened  me  so  much  that  I  quite  forgot 
the  funeral.  They  spoke  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  and  of 
some  slave-hunters,  who,  as  I  understood  them,  had  re 
cently  arrived  in  town.  '  For  my  part,'  said  one,  '  I  hope 
they  will  put  the  law  in  force,  and  carry  back  every  fugi 
tive  this  side  of  Canada.  I'll  help  them,  if  I'm  called 
upon.'  I  waited  until  the  men  Avent  away  ;  then,  rising  to 
my  feet,  set  out  to  walk  as  fast  as  I  could  down  the  road. 
I  afterwards  learned,  from  a  newspaper  I  saw  at  Mr. 
Jackwood's,  that  the  slave-hunters  alluded  to  were  prob 
ably  some  who  about  that  time  visited  a  town  in  the 
State  of  New  York  ;  but,  in  my  panic,  I  imagined  them  in 
full  pursuit  of  me.  I  took  by-roads,  and  travelled  on  and 
on,  keeping  a  northerly  direction,  but  with  no  definite  pur 
pose  in  view,  until  I  found  myself  on  a  wild  mountain-side, 
and  the  path  I  had  followed  became  lost  in  a  gloomy  forest. 
My  courage  failed.  I  had  eaten  nothing  since  morning, 
and  there  was  danger  of  perishing  in  the  woods.  But, 
looking  off  upon  the  valley,  I  saw  houses  and  farms,  and 
weary  as  I  was,  I  began  to  descend  the  mountain.  I 
crossed  a  steep  pasture-land,  full  of  rocks  and  thistles, 


410  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

among  which  I  slipped  and  fell,  until  I  was  so  overcome 
with  pain  and  exhaustion  that  sometimes  I  could  scarcely 
rise  again  to  my  feet.  But  the  valley  lay  before,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  on  reaching  the  meadows  I  would  find 
less  difficulty  in  proceeding,  they  looked  so  smooth  and 
green  and  cool  !  I  drank  at  a  clear  brook,  that  leaped 
plashing  and  singing  along  the  mountain-side  ;  and,  feeling 
slightly  rested  and  refreshed,  kept  on  down  the  slope.  On 
reaching  the  low  land,  however,  I  found  the  grass  an  unex 
pected  obstacle ;  and  as  I  proceeded  it  became  ranker, 
deeper,  and  thicker  at  every  step,  until  I  sank  down  in 
utter  helplessness  and  despair.  But  night  was  setting  in,  a 
storm  was  gathering  and  blackening,  and  I  made  a  final 
effort  to  reach  an  old  barn  that  stood  not  far  off  in  the 
valley.  I  came  to  a  stream  hedged  with  willows  and 
vines,  and,  as  I  was  searching  for  an  opening  in  the 
bushes,  I  discovered  a  bridge.  I  had  hardly  crossed,  when 
a  dizziness  seized  me,  and  I  fainted,  within  a  dozen  yards 
of  the  barn.  On  recovering  my  consciousness,  I  heard  a 
shout,  and  exerted  myself  to  answer  it.  It  was  Mr.  Jack- 
wood  calling  Abimelech,  who  was  lost  in  the  meadow. 

"  I  feel  too  weak,  Bertha,'7  said  Camille,  for  so  we  now 
must  call  her,  "  to  tell  you  more  to-day.  I  have  made  a 
long  and  tedious  story.  But  another  time  you  shall  hear 
more  of  Mr.  Roberts  " — 

"  And  Hector,"  said  Bertha  —  "  how  were  you  married  ? 
He  had  left  you  once  I  " 

"  Yes,  when  I  told  him  my  history.  But  his  love,"  said 
Camille,  with  a  glorious  smile,  "  his  love  was  great  as  his 
soul !  He  came  back,  and  claimed  me  as  his  wife." 

Bertha  covered  her  face.  "  Happy,  happy  wife  !  God 
bless  you !  "  and  she  sobbed  upon  Camille's  bosom. 


THE  WILDERNESS  411 


XLII 

THE    WILDERNESS 

I  KXOW  not  what  discontent  gnawed  Mr.  Punbury's 
heart,  If  the  same  that  tortured  him  during  his  illness, 
and  before  the  loss  of  Camille,  it  had  since  become  intensi 
fied  to  an  insupportable  degree.  By  day  his  brow  lowered 
with  fiercest  gloom.  By  night  he  groaned  and  gnashed 
his  teeth  in  sleep.  "  0  God  !  0  God  !  O  God  !  "  he  would 
sometimes  cry  out  in  his  anguish.  His  invalid  wife  was 
witness  to  these  outbursts.  Although  lying  almost  at  the 
brink  of  the  grave,  although  her  soul,  hovering  betwixt 
life  and  death,  seemed  only  to  linger  that  it  might  pray 
for  those  she  loved  until  the  end,  her  heart  was  moved 
with  compassion  for  her  husband  ;  and  to  quench  the  fires 
of  his  remorse,  to  soothe  and  soften  him,  she  would  have 
imparted  to  him  the  secret  of  Camille 's  rescue,  which  she 
had  learned  from  Mr.  Rukely.  But  only  once  had  she  the 
power  to  approach  the  subject  —  to  mention  Camilla's 
name.  He  tore  himself  fiercely  from  her.  "  Away  !  " 
he  cried.  "  The  fires  of  hell  are  in  me  ! " 

One  day  he  heard  the  vague  rumor  of  a  drowned  body 
being  discovered,  some  miles  below,  at  a  place  that  had 
been  flooded  by  the  recent  freshet.  Although  scarcely 
able  as  yet  to  ride,  he  mounted  his  horse,  and  spurred  with 
speed  to  the  scene  of  the  excitement.  The  rumor  proved 
well-founded.  A  frozen  corpse  had  been  brought  in  from 
the  interval.  But  it  was  the  corpse  of  a  man.  Mr.  Dun- 
bury  recognized  the  lunatic,  Edward  Longman. 

Edward's  friends  were  advised  of  the  event.     Mr.  Lons?- 


412  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

man  and  his  daughter-in-law  came  from  Canada ;  and  the 
funeral  was  attended  in  Mr.  Dunbury's  house. 

In  the  midst  of  the  ceremony,  a  rider  arrived  upon  a 
panting  horse,  and,  flinging  himself  down  at  the  door, 
appeared  abruptly  before  the  astonished  company. 

"  Hector ! "  articulated  Mrs.  Dunbury,  reaching  out  her 
arms. 

He  was  pale  and  stern  of  look.  He  heeded  no  one.  He 
strode  to  the  coffin  ;  he  gazed  on  the  face  of  the  dead. 
The  invalid,  feeble  as  she  was,  rose  up  white  and  ghost 
like  from  her  lounge,  and  tottered  to  his  side  !  "  My  son  ! 
Hector !  speak  to  me !  This  is  poor  Edward,  who  was 
drowned.  Charlotte " 

"  Ay,  where  is  she  ?  "  said  Hector's  hollow  voice.  He 
turned  upon  his  father ;  his  look  was  terrible.  "  At  your 
hands  I  demand  my  wife  !  " 

Mr.  Dunbury  stood  speechless,  the  relations  looking  on 
with  consternation.  Still  the  invalid  clung  to  Hector, 
whose  soul  knew  her  not.  The  clergyman,  a  mild  and 
formal  man,  stepped  forward. 

"  Have  respect  for  the  dead  !  " 

"  'Tis  not  my  dead  ! "  said  Hector.  "  At  your  hands, 
sir,"  he  repeated,  standing  before  his  father,  "  I  demand 
my  wife  ! " 

"  I  do  not  know  her  ! "  broke  forth  Mr.  Dunbury. 

"You  DID  NOT  know  her  !  "  answered  Hector.  "  And  it 
were  better  for  your  soul  had  your  eyes  never  beheld  her ! 
I  require  her  life  at  your  hands  ! " 

"  This  —  this  is  strange  language  to  address  to  me,  sir  ! " 
gasped  the  father. 

"  It  is  strange  language  !  Would  to  God  I  had  never 
lived  to  speak  it,  or  you  to  hear  it !  Oh,  were  you  NOT  my 
father ! » 

"  My  son !  my  child  !  "  uttered  the  invalid,  "  listen  a 
moment,  I  beseech  you  !  Charlotte  —  you  have  not  heard 
all  —  you  have  not  heard  aright "  — 


THE  WILDERNESS  413 

"  I  have  heard  !  My  father  - —  MY  FATHER  —  thrust  her 
forth  !  It  is  the  village  talk.  AVith  his  curse  she  went  ! 
Her  blood  is  upon  his  hands  !  My  wife  !  my  wife  !  my 
wife  !  O  God  !  control  my  soul  !  " 

Covering  his  face,  he  rushed  from  the  room,  his  mot  hoi- 
cry  ing  out  to  him,  and  clasping  his  neck.  Still  he  knew 
her  not,  or  heard  not,  or  heeded  not.  But  when  they  were 
quite  alone,  at  one  thrilling  word  her  tongue  pronounced, 
he  started,  and  gazed  at  her.  "  Mother  !  did  you  say" 

"  Lives  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  exalted  emotion. 

"  Lives  !     Charlotte  !  is  it  true  ?  " 

"  My  son,  it  is  heavenly  true  !  " 

"  Where  ?  speak  at  once !  "  As  soon  as  she  could  gather 
breath,  the  invalid  told  the  tale.  "0  mother!"  said 
Hector,  with  bursting  joy,  "the  word  is  worth  a  world! 
She  lives!" 

He  sprang  from  her  arms  ;  he  leaped  upon  his  horse,  and 
rode  northward  with  glad  speed.  When  once  more  he 
drew  rein  and  flung  himself  from  the  saddle,  it  was  at  the 
door  of  Mr.  Kukely's  house. 

A  beautiful  snow-storm  speckled  the  heavens,  and  whit 
ened  all  the  ground.  At  the  window  of  her  room  sat  Ca- 
millo,  gazing  out  upon  the  wondrous  phenomenon  of  the 
^Northern  winter.  Slowly,  steadily,  and  one  by  one,  the 
white  flakes  came  fluttering  down  ;  each  falling  and  set 
tling  softly  in  its  place,  forming  one  vast  white  robe  of 
ermine  for  the  earth.  And  she  was  thinking  how  insigniii- 
cant  in  itself  seemed  each  feathery  speck,  yet  how  neces 
sary  all  to  complete  nature's  fair  device,  and  fulfil  her 
wise  design.  One  went  to  ridge  the  rails  of  the  old  fence  ; 
another  was  lost  in  the  infinity  of  the  fields ;  another  joined 
the  busy  swarm  that  clustered  on  limb,  and  branch,  and 
smallest  quivering  twig  of  the  apple-tree  ;  another  fell  by 
the  kitchen,  and  was  trodden  under  foot.  She  called  the 
snow  HUMANITY,  and  looked  up  in  the  cloud  to  find  a  rep- 


414  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

reservation  of  herself.  She  chose,  by  chance,  one  minute 
speck  from  among  the  millions  that  darkened  the  air ; 
watched  its  slow  increase,  as  it  approached  the  earth ;  saw 
it  assume  the  spangles  of  a  fair  light  flake,  and  sink  gently, 
steadily  —  into  the  well !  She  was  wondering  what  it 
meant;  whether  the  well  was  death,  or  the  bosom  and 
source  of  all  humanity,  or  the  heart  of  one,  when  the  door 
of  the  chamber  was  thrown  suddenly  open,  and  Bertha 
rushed  in.  Her  speech  was  incoherent ;  but  her  looks,  her 
confused,  hurried  words,  were  but  too  full  of  meaning. 

"  I  don't  know  who  it  can  be  ! "  said  Bertha.  "  I  heard 
the  bell  ring ;  I  listened  —  mother  was  at  the  door  —  a 
voice  demanded  you  !  " 

"Perhaps,"  faltered  Camille's  pale  lips,  "perhaps  it  is  a 
friend  !  Oh,  if  it  were  —  Hector  !  " 

"  I  will  know ! "  exclaimed  Bertha,  agitated  betwixt 
hope  and  fear.  Camille  listened,  as  Bertha  disappeared  ; 
heard  eager  voices  approaching  presently,  and  a  man's 
tread  on  the  stairs.  The  door  opened  again.  Bertha  flew 
in.  She  was  followed  by  Eobert  Greenwich. 

Cold  with  despair,  Camille  sank  down  upon  the  pillows 
of  the  arm-chair,  fixing  her  icy  looks  upon  the  comer. 

"  You  are  discovered  !  "  exclaimed  Bertha.  "  He  has 
come  to  warn  you  —  to  save  you  !  " 

"  HE  !  "  repeated  Camille,  with  a  shudder. 

"  Even  I  !  "  said  Robert,  with  looks  intense  and  haggard. 
"  For  God's  sake,  waste  not  a  moment  nor  a  word !  I 
thought  you  were  dead.  In  that  thought  I  have  suffered 
more  than  death !  —  a  thousand  deaths  !  Believe  me  for 
your  own  sake  !  I  am  in  the  confidence  of  the  South 
ern  agents ;  they  are  on  your  track ;  I  have  but  five 
minutes  the  start  of  them.  In  five  minutes  it  will  be 
too  late  ! " 

"  0  Camille ! "  said  Bertha,  "  why  do  you  doubt  ? 
Surely  he  is  your  friend  !  " 

"  If  I  have  an  enemy  in  the  whole  world,"  said  Camille, 


THE  WILDERNESS  415 

"  it  is  he !  He  stands  in  my  sight  for  all  that  is  false  and 
black  in  humanity  !  " 

"  How  ?     Oh,  no  "   —  began  Bertha. 

"  I  told  you  of  Mr.  Roberts,"  interposed  Camille,  firm  in 
her  very  despair.  "  I  told  you  not  half !  Mr.  Roberts  and 
Robert  Greenwich  are  the  same.  Tell  me,  is  he  to  be 
trusted  ?  " 

Bertha  was  struck  dumb  at  this  announcement. 

"  Do  not  make  me  worse  than  I  am ! "  said  Robert ;  "  for, 
as  I  have  wronged  you,  all  1  live  for  now  is  to  make  atone 
ment.  Your  refusal  will  be  your  own  ruin,  and  bring  my 
eternal  despair.  I  have  a  swift  horse  at  the  door ;  I  can 
take  you  to  a  place  of  safety.  If  you  are  found  here, 
nothing  can  save  you  !  N"o  money,  no  influence,  no  law  " 

"  Tell  us,"  cried  Bertha,  "  how  she  lias  been  discovered." 

"  By  a  bribe.     Dickson  fell  in  with  Crumlett  " 

"  0  Matilda  ! "   Bertha  cried  out,  "  it  is  what  I  feared  !  " 

"  Since  you  required  proof,"  said  Robert,  "  I  have  be 
trayed  the  betrayer.  How  can  you  doubt  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  doubt,"  answered  Camille  faintly.  "  But  I 
will  stay,  and  meet  my  fate." 

"  Think  of  Hector  ! "  muttered  Bertha. 

"  0  Hector  !  "  Camille's  strength  gave  way  ;  she  wrung 
her  hands.  "  But  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

" Escape!"  And  Bertha  began  hurriedly  to  wrap  her 
in  hood,  veil,  and  shawl.  "  I  know  you  can  trust  him ;  I 
know  he  is  sincere. — Oh,  if  Mr.  Rukely  would  come!" 

"  Do  with  me  as  you  will !  My  mind  is  weak  as  my 
frame  !  But  —  do  you  go  with  me,  Bertha  ! " 

"  Be  sure  I  will  stay  by  you." 

"  Oh,  sir !  "  and  Camille  turned  her  despairing  eyes  on 
Robert,  "  if  it  is  in  your  heart  to  deceive  me  now,  do  but 
look  upon  me  —  consider  what  you  do  !  " 

He  looked  upon  her  — so  pale,  so  frail  and  helpless; 
and  if  there  was  treachery  in  his  heart,  and  had  that  heart 
been  anything  but  stone,  it  must  have  relented  then.  But 


416  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

neither  by  word  nor  look  did  he  evince  any  but  the  sincer- 
est  emotions.  There  was  a  Bible  on  the  stand ;  he  seized 
it,  and  took  oath  thereupon  to  be  henceforth  truth  itself 
in  all  his  dealings  with  her  whom  he  had  so  wronged.  He 
wished  to  carry  Camille  down-stairs  in  his  arms.  But  she 
would  not  suffer  him.  With  the  help  of  Bertha  and  Mrs. 
Wing,  she  reached  the  door.  "  And  you,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  I  had  forgotten  ! "  said  Bertha. 

"  A  moment's  delay  may  ruin  all ! "  said  Robert. 

Bertha  ran  for  her  bonnet  and  cloak.  Camille  had  suf 
fered  herself  to  be  placed  in  the  cutter,  and  wrapped  in 
its  robes.  Robert  leaped  in.  Bertha  did  not  appear. 

"  We  cannot  wait !  "  The  horse  sprang.  Camille  uttered 
a  cry ;  she  turned  her  feeble  head,  and  looked  back  implor 
ingly  ;  there  stood  the  wondering  old  lady ;  then  Bertha 
ran  hurriedly  from  the  house.  It  was  too  late.  The  gate 
was  passed ;  the  cutter  flew  over  the  ground ;  and  the 
white  storm  settled  down  between  Camille  and  the  only 
haven  of  safety  she  knew  in  the  wide  world. 


A  rash  and  hasty  step  ;  in  avoiding  an  uncertain  danger, 
to  rush  into  the  very  face  of  a  certain  one  !  So  thought 
Bertha,  after  Camille  was  gone.  And  Bertha,  wild  with 
excitement,  accused  herself  as  of  some  unpardonable  crime. 
In  her  agitation  she  ran  out  to  find  Matilda,  who  had  gone 
to  do  an  errand  in  the  village.  She  met  Miss  Fosdick 
hurrying  home  through  the  storm. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  cried  Matilda.  "  I'm  sure  as  ever  I  was 
of  anything  in  my  life  that  Charlotte  Woods  was  in  the 
cutter  that  just  passed  !  " 

"  She  was  ! "  uttered  Bertha.  "  And  you  —  you  —  Ma 
tilda  —  why  did  you  tell  that  she  was  here  ?  " 

"  I  tell  !  "  echoed  Matilda.  "  I  never  did !  I  hope  to 
die  !  I  never  lisped  it  to  a  soul !  " 

"  True,  Matilda  ?  —  never  to  any  one  ?  " 

"  Never  !  sure  as  I  live  ! " 


THE  WILDERNESS  417 

"  Not  even  to  Enos  ?  " 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  wouldn't  ?  "  But  Matilda's  voice 
faltered,  and  she  looked  troubled. 

"  Oh,  then,"  said  Bertha,  "  we  have  been  deceived  !  Rob- 
ert  guessed  where  she  was,  and  made  up  the  story.  Run 
for  Mr.  Rukely !  He  is  at  the  conference.  Make  haste, 
.Matilda !  " 

k-  Why,"  cried  Miss  Fosdick,  "  who  said  I  told  Enos 
Oumlett  ?  I  can't  think  that  I  ever  breathed  a  syllable  to 
him  about  it;  and  if  I  had,  he  wouldn't  gone  and  told." 

Bertha  hurried  back  to  the  house,  in  greater  trouble 
than  before,  believing  that  she  had  been  duped  by  Robert's 
confident  air  and  protestations  of  friendship,  and  that 
through  her  Camille  had  been  betrayed.  A  sudden  change 
was  given  to  the  current  of  her  thoughts,  however,  when, 
arriving  at  the  house,  she  found  the  kidnappers  there  be 
fore  her,  the  doors  flung  wide,  the  old  lady  frightened,  and 
Dickson  furious  at  discovering  that  once  more  the  bird  had 
flown. 

Meanwhile  Miss  Fosdick,  greatly  excited,  and  quite  for 
getting  that  she  was  sent  to  fetch  Mr.  Rukely,  walked 
aimlessly  on  until  she  caught  sight  of  a  coon-skin  cap  and 
a  long,  gray  greatcoat  rapidly  passing  a  corner  amid  the 
falling  snow.  The  owner  seemed  solicitous  of  avoiding  a 
meeting  with  her,  but  she  ran  after  him. 

"  Enos  !  Enos  !  "  she  called.     "  Jest  a  minute  !     Enos  !  " 

"Oh!  that  you,  Tildy?"  said  Mr.  Crumlett,  appearing 
much  surprised,  and  inclined  to  hurry  on.  "  I'm  in  suthin 
of  a  hurry." 

"  Of  course  it's  me,  and  you  knew  it  was.  Pretendin' 
not  to  know  me  !  "  Miss  Fosdick  exclaimed  indignantly. 
'•  What  you  keepin'  away  from  me  so  for  ?  And,  0  Enos  ! 
why  did  you  go  and  tell  ?  " 

"  I  hain't  told  nothin'  ! "  He  looked  cautiously  around, 
and  lowered  his  voice.  "  Don't  speak  so  loud,  'Tildy  !" 

"  Yes,  you  did  !  "  she  cried,  "  and  I'll  speak  as  loud  as 


418  NElGUJlOlt  JACK  WOOD 

I  please.  It's  been  found  out  she  was  to  our  house  ;  she'll 
git  carried  back,  and  all  owin'  to  you." 

"No,  she  won't  git  carried  back  nuther,"  Enos  declared, 
still  glancing  anxiously  around.  "I  know  a  great  sight 
more  about  this  business  ?n  you  do,"  again  starting  to  go. 

"  What's  to  hender  her  bein'  carried  back  if  she's  took  ?  " 
she  demanded,  tempted  for  a  moment  to  catch  him  by  the 
tail  of  his  cap,  but  laying  hold  of  one  of  the  large  horn 
buttons  of  his  greatcoat  instead.  "  I  won't  let  ye  go  till 
ye  tell  me." 

"  Don't  you  see,  'Tildy  ?  She's  got  friends ;  they'll  club 
together  and  buy  her." 

"Who  will?" 

"Why,  me  an'  Jackwood  an'  Rukely  an'  the  rest.  It's 
all  understood,"  Enos  explained  in  a  hurried,  husky  voice. 
"'We  never  '11  let  her  go  back.  All  the  owner  wants  is 
pay  for  his  property,  an'  that's  nat'ral." 

The  plausible  scheme  failed  to  pacify  Miss  Fosdick. 

"  You'll  pay  out  your  money  for  that  Charlotte  Woods," 
she  complained,  "  and  you  wouldn't  git  me  that  breast-pin 
I  wanted  for  Christmas,  an'  it  cost  only  two  shillin's  !  " 

"  Why  should  I  ?  "  said  Enos. 

"  Ain't  we  engaged  ?  "  said  'Tildy. 

"  Wai,  I  s'pose  we  be  ;  but  I  ain't  dead  sure  of  havin'  ye,  an' 
I  ain't  go'n'  to  risk  any  very  heavy  expense  on  ye  till  I  be." 

Matilda  began  to  cry.  "  I  knew  you  wanted  to  break  off ! " 

"Who  said  anything  about  breaking  off  ?  "  he  demanded 
with  exasperation.  "  You  have  got  sich  an  all-fired  dis 
position,  'Tildy  Fosdick  ! " 

"  Anybody  'd  have,  treated  as  I  be  ! " 

"  Come,  now !  what's  the  rumpus  ?  Treated  as  you  be  ! 
What  have  I  done  ?  " 

'Tildy  could  not  for  a  moment  recall  the  immediate 
provocation  of  the  quarrel.  So  she  resorted  to  her  original 
complaint. 

"  You  had  to  go  and  tell,  and  break  your  solemn  spoken 


THE  WILDERNESS  419 

word  !    And  now  "  —  this  brought  back  the  latest  grievance 
—  "  you're  goin'  to  pay  out  your  money  on  her  account." 

"  Why,  'Tildy  !  "  said  Enos  confidentially,  "  I  hain't  told 
ye,  but  now  I  guess  I  will.  I  'xpec'  to  make," —  with  an  air 
of  the  deepest  mystery  he  stooped  his  bleak  nose  until  the 
ringed  tail  of  his  coon-skin  cap  dangled  against  her  cheek ;  — 
"  arter  all's  said  an'  done,  an'  she's  bought  off,  I  cal'ate  to 
save  over  a  hundred  dollars.  Can't  tell  ye  how,  but  it's  so." 

"'Enos  Crumlett !  what's  that  you're  talkin'  !  "  she  ejacu 
lated  wonderingly. 

"  Fact ! "  he  declared.  "  Oh,  I  guess  you'll  find  a  chap 
name  o'  Crumlett  knows  perty  dumb  well  what  he's  about." 

"  Why,  yes,  Enos  ! "  said  'Tildy ;  "  how  smart  you  be  ! " 

"Wai,  I  be  some  smart,  I  allow,"  Enos  assented.  "Tell 
ye  all  about  it  some  time.  Now  I  got  to  go  an'  see  about 
gittin'  my  money.  Don't  breathe  a  word  on  't  to  a  livin' 
soul,  'Tildy  !  I'm  in  a  stavin'  hurry  !  " 

"  Oil,  jest  a  minute ! "  Again  she  detained  him.  "  I  s'pose 
you  know  what  Rob  Greenwich  has  been  and  gone  and  done?" 

"  Hob  Greenwich  ?     Wai,  no,  I  don't.      What  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  was  him  that  said  you  told ;  and  he's  jest  been 
to  the  house  and  carried  her  off  in  a  cutter." 

"  Rob  Greenwich  ?  carried  her  off  ?  "  Enos  echoed  in 
consternation.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  afore  ?  " 

"  I  thought  of  course  you  knew,  you  are  so  smart !" 

"  Smart  !  "  ejaculated  the  thunderstruck  Crumlett. 
"  I'm  afraid  I  ain't  quite  so  smart  as  I  thought  I  was  ! 
Be  ye  sure  ?  How  do  ye  know  ?  "  Then,  when  told,  he 
uttered  a  hoarse  ejaculation,  the  legs  under  the  long  great 
coat  strode  away,  and  the  raccoon's  tail  waved  in  the 
speckled  storm,  gazed  after  by  the  wondering  Matilda. 

Beyond  the  village,  Robert  pursued  an  unfrequented 
road,  and  turning  into  a  forest,  followed  a  winding,  irregu 
lar  track  among  the  trees. 

"  Where  are  you  taking  me  ?  "  implored  Camille. 


420  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  To  the  only  spot  I  know  where  you  can  spend  the 
night  in  safety,"  answered  Robert.  In  safety  !  The  word 
sounded  like  mockery  in  her  ear ;  —  as  if  there  could  be 
safety  for  her  anywhere  with  him  ! 

He  drove  on.  The  woods  stood  strangely  still  in  the 
storm;  there  seemed  no  motion  but  the  falling  of  the 
snowy  cloud,  no  sound  save  that  of  hoofs  and  runners 
among  the  dark  columns  of  the  forest.  The  road  was  one 
that  had  been  beaten  by  wood-cutters ;  it  was  rough  and 
uneven ;  and  Robert,  who  found  it  necessary  to  proceed 
slowly,  occupied  the  time  in  endeavoring  to  reassure 
Camille.  That  he  had  suffered  pangs  of  remorse  on  her 
account,  she  could  not  doubt ;  but  knowing  him  to  be  a 
slave  to  selfishness  and  passion,  not  one  spark  of  genuine 
faith  or  hope  could  she  draw  from  his  most  earnest  vows. 
As  they  penetrated  farther  and  farther  the  gloom  of  the 
woods,  deeper  and  darker  became  her  despair.  "  0  Hector ! 
Hector  !  "  called  her  soul  in  its  helplessness  ;  "  come  to 
me  !  come  to  me  !  " 

At  length  they  turned  into  a  path  so  narrow  that  the 
cutter  touched  the  bushes  on  each  side  as  they  passed. 
They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  thicket  that  had  overgrown 
an  ancient  clearing. 

"  Here,"  said  Robert,  "  we  are  beyond  pursuit." 

"  What  is  here  ?  "  said  the  shuddering  fugitive. 

"A  refuge  —  a  home  —  a  protector!"  and  Robert  pointed 
out  a  log  hut  which  appeared  suddenly  to  view  as  they 
turned  a  point  in  the  tangled  wild.  It  was  a  dismal  spot ; 
the  hut  had  a  dreary,  ruined,  uninhabited  aspect  5  the 
gloom,  the  storm,  the  savage  loneliness  of  the  wood,  which 
Camille's  eye  beheld  on  every  side,  added  terrors  to  her 
situation.  She  had  resolved  in  her  heart  not  to  leave  the 
cutter,  unless  dragged  from  it  by  force  ;  when,  to  her  as 
tonishment,  Robert,  leaping  upon  the  ground,  knocked  three 
times  upon  the  door.  After  some  delay,  it  was  slowly 
opened,  and  a  chubby  female  face  appeared,  accompanied 


THE  WILDERNESS  421 

by  an  uncovered  head,  and  a  short,  plump  figure,  carelessly 
attired. 

"  Why  !  is  it  you  ?  Who  have  you  got  with  you  ?  " 
The  face  struck  Camille  peculiarly  ;  she  had  seen  it  some 
where  ;  and,  at  the  sound  of  the  voice,  a  flood  of  recollec 
tions  rushing  over  her,  she  put  aside  her  veil.  "  Dear 
me  !  Miss  Woods  !  " 

k-  I  had  forgotten  that  you  were  old  friends,"  said 
Kobert.  "  So  much  the  better." 

kk  Does  my  husband  know  ?  "  —  and  the  chubby  face 
turned  to  Kobert  with  a  look  of  trepidation. 

<l  There  was  no  time  to  consult  him,"  said  Robert. 

"  I'm  afraid  he  won't  like  it  —  I  —  it  is  so  sudden ! " 
and,  turning  to  Camille  again,  the  chubby  face  tried  to 
smile.  "  This  is  a  surprise,  ain't  it  ?  How  do  you  do  ? 
How  have  you  been  ?  Are  you  pretty  well  ?  Has  your 
health  been  good  since  —  it  is  quite  unexpected,  finding  me 
in  such  a  place,  ain't  it  ?  Who  ever  thought  you  would 
visit  me  ?  How  well  you  are  looking  !  " 

'•  She  is  just  up  from  a  sick  bed,"  said  Robert.  "  Make 
way,  and  place  a  chair." 

"  Why,  is  she  ill  ? "  cried  the  excited  little  woman. 
"  Who  would  have  thought  ?  How  feeble  you  do  look  ! 
Excuse  appearances ;  we  are  —  my  husband  has  a  fancy  for 
rural  spots  —  we're  here  only  temporarily,  you  know. 
How  did  you  leave  Canada  ?  " 

The  interior  of  the  hut  was  in  keeping  with  the  exterior; 
the  walls  were  of  plastered  logs,  the  floor  of  rough  plank, 
the  furniture  scanty  and  rude.  But  a  blazing  fire  in  the 
chimney  cast  a  glow  of  comfort  upon  the  scene  ;  and  the 
chubby  little  woman  hastened  to  place  an  old-fashioned 
arm-chair  before  the  hearth  for  Camille.  Having  seen  his 
companion  seated,  Robert  went  out  to  take  care  of  his 
horse.  The  door  was  shut  and  fastened.  Then  Camille 
held  eagerly  upon  the  arm  of  the  woman,  who  was  remov 
ing  her  things. 


422  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Sperkley !  "  said  she,  "  I  think  you  are  my 
friend  !  Explain  this  to  me  !  It  seems  so  strange  that  I 
should  be  brought  here  —  that  I  should  find  you  !  " 

"  Bless  me  !  "  cried  the  duchess,  "  you  know  more  about 
it  than  I  do  !  I  never  was  so  astonished  in  my  life  !  Is't 
an  elopement  ?  Excuse  me.  I  mean,  are  you  married  ?  " 

"  You  have  not  heard,  then,  that  I  have  been  pursued  — 
hunted  —  " 

"  Heavens,  no  !    How  ?  when  ?  where  ?    Have  you  passed 
-  any  of  —  it  ?  " 

"  Have  you  heard  nothing  ?  —  how  they  came  to  take  me 
—  how  I  escaped  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word  !  How  was  you  found  out  ?  How  much 
was  there  of  it  ?  Where  did  you  pass  it  ?  Oh,"  ex 
claimed  the  duchess,  turning  all  sorts  of  colors,  and  exhib 
iting  signs  of  consternation  in  every  look  and  gesture,  "  my 
husband  said  'twould  be  so  !  If  ever  we  was  found  out, 
'twould  be  through  him  !  Why  did  he  bring  you  here  ? 
We  shall  all  be  taken  together !  He's  the  most  rashest, 
inconsideratest  man  that  I  ever  see  !  Are  they  following 
you  now  ?  Can  they  track  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  ;  my  mind  seems  all  confused  !  Either  I 
do  not  understand  you,  or  you  do  not  understand  me." 

"  Didn't  you  know  what  kind  it  was  when  you  passed 
it?" 

"  What  are  you  saying  ?  " 

"  Why  !  "  cried  the  duchess,  "  wasn't  it  for  passing  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  passing.  I  am  —  I 
was  —  they  call  me  —  a  fugitive  —  a  slave  !  They  have 
come  to  claim  me  —  to  take  me  back  !  " 

"  You  !  Mercy  !  is  that  it  ?  I  thought  —  dear  me,  what 
have  I  been  talking  ?  Then  you  haven't  had  any  of  it  ? 
But  what  should  he  bring  you  here  for  ?  " 

"  He  is  coming  ;  he  will  explain  to  you  ;  I  can't,"  said 
poor  Camille.  "  But,  0  Mrs.  Sperkley  !  you  are  a  woman ; 
you  will  protect  me  I  " 


THE  WILDERNESS  423 

"  Wait  !  "  said  the  duchess.  "  There's  his  knock."  She 
sprang  to  undo  the  fastenings  of  the  door.  At  sight  of 
Robert  entering,  Camille' s  vision  grew  dark,  and  a  few 
minutes  later,  with  but  a  dim  consciousness  of  what  had 
taken  place,  she  found  herself  lying  upon  a  bed,  in  a 
strange  room,  with  Robert  bending  over  her,  while  Mrs. 
Sperkley  bathed  her  lips  and  temples. 

"  Drink,"  said  Robert,  holding  a  glass  to  her  lips.  "  It 
will  do  you  good." 

"  No  ;  leave  me,"  entreated  Camille. 

"  It  is  a  simple  restorative  ;  you  need  it  much,"  insisted 
Robert. 

"  Perhaps  ;  but  I  will  not  drink." 

"  Go  !  "  -  Mrs.  Sperkley  pushed  Robert  away.  "  I  can 
manage  her  !  "  And  the  little  woman  presented  the  draught 
with  one  of  her  most  confident  and  persuasive  smiles.  To 
her  astonishment,  it  was  still  refused.  "  Why,  'tain't  bad  ! 
Jest  taste  it." 

Camille  glanced  suspiciously  at  Robert's  retreating  figure. 
"  I  have  heard,"  she  whispered,  "  of  people  being  drugged ! 
O,  Mrs.  Sperkley,  you  will  be  true  to  me  !  and,  if  I  should 
not  be  all  the  time  in  my  right  mind,  you  will  not  let  me 
take  any  hurtful  drink  —  tell  me  that  !  " 

"  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  tiling  ?  "  ejaculated  the 
duchess.  "  Look  !  "  and  she  drank  the  potion  at  a  breath. 
"  It's  wine,  right  from  my  husband's  bottle.  He  always 
has  the  best  o'  wine.  You  shall  see  me  pour  some  for 
you." 

After  that  Camille  drank.  The  wine  revived  and 
warmed  her.  She  wished  then  to  be  left  alone,  and  Mrs. 
Sperkley  withdrew.  She  was  lying  languidly  upon  the 
bed,  with  her  eyes  closed,  thinking  unutterable  thoughts, 
and  searching  deeply  within  herself  for  the  light  of  Wis 
dom  to  guide  and  sustain  her,  when  the  creaking  of  the 
door,  and  a  footstep  by  the  bed,  startled  her.  She  looked 
up,  and  saw  Robert  entering  softly, 


424  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  disturb  you,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone. 
"  If  you  can  sleep,  let  me  sit  here  and  watch." 

"  I  prefer  to  be  alone,"  answered  Camille,  closing  her 
eyes  again,  and  covering  her  face.  He  dropped  upon  his 
knees  by  her  side.  "  Will  you  leave  me,  sir  ?  "  she  said, 
more  firmly  than  before. 

"  Yes,  since  you  wish  it."  But  he  did  not  move.  There 
was  a  long  pause.  "  0  God  !  "  he  burst  forth  at  length, 
"  why  are  you  so  beautiful  ?  why  are  you  so  lovely  ?  " 

"  Kobert  Greenwich  !  "  she  cried,  starting  up,  "  will  you 
go?" 

"  Camille,"  he  answered,  in  tones  stifled  by  passion,  "  I 
have  sworn,  and  I  will  keep  my  word.  But  hear  me  one 
moment.  Your  only  safety  is  in  me.  You  shall  rest  here 
until  to-morrow;  but  Canada  must  be  reached;  there  is 
danger  in  delay.  We  will  go  together.  The  service,  the 
love,  the  life  of  a  great  soul,  is  yours,  if  you  will  accept  it. 
Have  I  not  shown  my  devotion  to-day  ?  Do  you  not  think 
differently  of  me  ?  Am  I  not  worthy  at  least  to  be  your 
servant  ?  " 

"  No  ! "  said  Camille.    "  Deceiver  !    I  will  not  hear  you  !  " 

"You  still  have  hope  of  Hector.  But  he  cannot  save 
you.  His  attempt  to  purchase  you  has  failed.  No  wealth 
could  satisfy  your  owner.  If  you  are  taken,  you  must 
return  to  slavery.  This  is  hard  language,  but  it  is  the 
truth.  I  wish  you  to  know  your  danger,  and  to  know 
me." 

"  My  danger  is  in  you.  Oh,  it  is  you  who  have  done  me 
treacherous  wrong ;  it  is  to  you  I  owe  so  much  suffering ! 
Perhaps  what  you  tell  me  is  true  ;  perhaps  Hector  could 
not  save  me  if  he  were  here  ;  but,  sir,  why  will  you  not 
understand  me  ?  Why  will  you  not  believe  the  testimony 
of  my  soul  ?  It  is  my  whole  nature,  my  very  being,  that 
rises  up  against  you  !  " 

Robert  struggled  with  himself,  striving,  perhaps,  to  keep 
the  oath  which  he  had  not  indeed  taken  in  idle  mood.  But 


THE  WILDERNESS  425 

resolution  was  weak.  He  saw  Camille  in  his  power.  He 
seized  her  hand. 

"  Touch  me  not !  "  she  cried,  snatching  it  away.  "Take 
care !  " 

And,  feeble  as  she  was,  she  sprang  up,  recoiling  from 
him  with  angry,  menacing  eyes. 

"  Greenwich  !  "  called  the  duchess  from  without.  Eobert 
made  no  response  ;  she  then  began  to  knock  violently  and 
shake  the  door,  which,  as  Camille  discovered  to  her  dis 
may,  had  been  bolted  on  the  inside. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  demanded  Robert. 

"  Do  come  out !  "  whispered  the  duchess.  "  There's  a 
sleigh  in  the  bush.  Some  men  are  coming  to  the  door, 
and  I'm  frightened  to  death  !  " 

A  shadow  swept  over  Robert's  face.     "  How  many  ?  " 

"  Three  or  four.     They're  knocking  !    What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

Robert  slipped  back  the  bolt,  glided  from  the  chamber, 
and  obtained  a  hasty  glimpse  at  the  party  through  a  loop 
hole  near  the  outer  door  of  the  hut.  The  knocking  was 
repeated. 

"  Shall  I  open  ?  "  whispered  the  agitated  duchess. 

He  put  her  off,  and  hastened  back  to  Camille.  "  That 
accursed  Dickson  !  They  have  tracked  us  by  the  snow. 
Shall  I  save  you  ?  " 

"  Save  me  !  how  ?  "  said  the  pallid  girl. 

"  Say  but  the  wrord,  and  'tis  done.  There's  not  an  in 
stant  to  lose  ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Look  at  me  !  You  have  distrusted,  scorned  me  !  I'm  not 
the  fool  to  serve  you  for  such  pay.  Choose  now  your  fate  !  " 

"  How  —  choose  ?  " 

"  Between  me  and  slavery  !  Between  me  and  perhaps 
a  dozen  brutal  masters  !  Speak  —  at  once  !  " 

The  knocking  at  the  door  had  become  loud  and  violent. 
Robert  grasped  Camille's  arm,  as  she  supported  herself  by 
the  bed.  Her  suffering  and  terror  were  extreme  ;  but,  in 


426  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

the  midst  of  all,  she  kept  her  bright  unchanging  look  on  his, 
and  a  resistless  spiritual  power  seemed  poured  upon  her. 

Dickson's  party  thundered  at  the  door. 

"  Consider  !  "  said  Robert.  "  In  their  hands  you  will  be 
lost.  Vengeance  and  hatred  are  hungry  for  you !  There 
is  in  this  house  a  place  of  concealment  which  I  would  defy 
an  army  of  Dicksons  to  discover  !  Once  there,  you  are 
safe.  Promise  me  your  love,  and  nothing  shall  harm  you  !  " 

"  I  cannot  resist  wrong  with  wrong ;  I  cannot  promise 
falsely,"  answered  Camille.  "  Save  me  for  justice,  for 
mercy,  I  will  thank  you ;  but,  if  for  your  own  selfishness, 
I  shall  scorn  you  the  more  ! " 

Blows  shook  the  door  of  the  hut,  and  voices  called  and 
threatened.  Mrs.  Sperkely  ran  to  and  fro,  beside  herself 
with  terror. 

"  Is  this  your  answer  ?  "  hissed  Robert. 

"It  is  my  answer  !"  came  the  firm  response. 

Robert  rushed  to  the  door,  and  threw  it  broadly  open. 
"  Dickson,"  said  he,  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Greenwich  !  "  said  Dickson,  with  a  ferocious  look,  "  I'm 
glad  to  see  you  !  A  mighty  fine  trick  you've  played  us  !  " 

"  It's  a  trick  you'll  thank  me  for !  " 

"  With  a  vengeance  !  "  growled  Dickson.  "  Whar's  that 
gal?" 

"In  a  safe  place  — for  you.  Crumlett  has  flunked  ;  he 
warned  her  to  escape.  Mrs.  Rukely  called  to  me  for  help, 
as  I  was  riding  by.  I  brought  her  here,  to  keep  her 
until  word  could  be  got  to  you.  If  this  is  the  way  I  am 
thanked  —  there  is  your  prey ;  clutch  her,  and  good  luck  tc 
you  ! "  And  as  the  human  hounds,  followed  by  the  stanch 
Oliver  Dole,  rushed  into  the  chamber  of  the  defenceless 
fugitive,  the  traitor  Robert  turned  his  back,  and  fled.  He 
ran  to  a  hovel  in  the  thicket  close  by ;  there  stood  his  horse, 
where  he  had  left  him ;  he  brought  him  out,  leaped  into 
the  sleigh,  lashed  him  with  his  whip,  and  dashing  past  the 
house,  and  along  the  narrow,  winding  path,  reached  the 
road,  and  returned  the  way  he  came, 


THE  WILDERNESS  427 

The  storm  had  ceased.  Before  him  spread  the  woodland, 
calm  and  still.  Over  the  whited  ground,  beneath  the  snow- 
laden  boughs,  amid  the  solemn  trunks  that  stood  amazed 
as  he  passed,  he  urged  his  horse's  speed  with  whip  and 
rein.  It  was  the  flight  of  guilt,  of  fear,  of  baffled  rage  and 
shame  ;  to  quit  the  scenes  of  his  unmanly  acts,  to  fly  his 
native  land,  to  leave  the  past  and  remorse  forever  behind 
him  !  Oh,  that  whirlwinds  would  blow !  that  the  trees 
would  groan  and  roar  !  that  howling  storms  would  cover 
his  track  with  drifts  !  He  approached  an  opening  of  the 
wood.  Beyond,  above  the  shaggy  mountain  side,  glowed 
the  subdued  fire  of  the  afternoon  sun  through  banks  of 
gilded  cloud,  shooting  mild  rays  athwart  the  forest  tops 
and  tingeing  with  faint  gold  the  bosom  of  the  virgin  snow. 
Overhead  the  myriad  curving  branches,  the  infinite  net 
work  of  silver-lined  boughs,  the  roof  of  ebon  tracery  edged 
with  pearl,  opened,  and  brightened,  and  smiled  in  the 
blushing  light.  His  career  seemed  all  the  more  fearful  and 
guilty  from  contrast  with  this  beauty.  Perhaps  he  felt  the 
eye  of  Deity  looking  down  upon  him  then,  or  the  bright 
heaven  his  sin  had  forfeited  smiling  in  pity  upon  his  flight. 

He  lashed  his  horse,  and  was  soon  out  of  the  wood.  He 
turned  down  the  western  track  before  he  observed  a  horse 
man  riding  fast  between  him  and  the  sun.  He  was  ap 
proaching  ;  they  met ;  lightning  glances  of  recognition 
passed  between  them.  Robert  whipped  on  more  furiously 
than  before ;  and  the  other,  wheeling  short  dn  his  course, 
spurred  after  him. 

The  race  was  brief  ;  the  pursuer,  galloping  to  the  head 
of  Robert's  horse,  grasped  the  rein,  and  with  a  sudden 
wrench,  bearing  the  poor  animal  sheer  from  the  track, 
broke  his  perilous  speed  against  the  road-side  fence.  The 
cutter  was  overturned,  the  rider  hurled  headlong ;  and 
Hector,  wheeling  again,  leaped  down  from  his  horse,  just 
as  Robert,  snow-covered,  bruised,  bewildered,  was  strug 
gling  to  his  feet. 


428  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XLIII 

THE    LAW    TAKES    ITS    COURSE 

"  ALL  right ! "  chuckled  Dickson,  as  his  hand  grasped 
Camille's  shoulder.  "  Come,  my  chick  !  I  reck'n  you'll  go 
along  'thout  any  more  fuss ;  thar's  been  fool'n'  enough  for 
one  while." 

"  No  violence  ! "  interposed  Oliver  Dole.  "  Let  the  law 
quietly  take  its  course  ;  that's  all  we  want." 

Camille,  who  had  fallen  upon  her  knees  by  the  bed, 
attempted  to  rise,  turning  her  suffering,  bewildered  looks 
upon  the  man  of  law.  Such  gentleness  and  frailness,  such 
loveliness  and  distress,  he  had  little  expected  to  behold. 
His  stern  face  contracted  with  pain,  as  his  public  con 
science  was  momentarily  surprised  by  a  ray  of  human  feel 
ing  that  stole  into  his  heart.  With  a  softened  look  he 
extended  his  hand  to  support  her  faltering  step  when 
suddenly  she  fell  like  one  dead  at  his  feet. 

"  Jones  !  "  cried  Dickson,  "  pass  yer  flask  !  I'll  fetch  her 
out  of  this  !  I've  seen  sech  tricks  'fore  to-day." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  her  ?  "  screamed  the 
affrighted  duchess. 

"  Jest  you  stan'  one  side,  and  hold  yer  clatter  —  that's 
all  I  ask  of  you  ! "  And  Dickson  roughly  administered  the 
restorative  to  his  victim,  holding  her  head  upon  his  knee. 

"  I'm  astonished  to  find  her  so  feeble  ! "  exclaimed  Oliver 
Dole.  "  She  oughtn't  to  be  moved  till  she's  stronger." 

"  If  she  could  run  away,  she  can  go  with  us,"  growled 
Dickson.  "  Ah  !  com'n'  to  a  bit,  be  ye  ?  That's  right ; 
spunk  up  !  It's  got  to  come  ;  and  the  sooner  it's  over,  the 


THE  LAW  TAKES  ITS   COURSE  429 

quicker.     Look  a'  yer,  you  apple-face  ! "  —  to  the  duchess,  — 
'•hain't  she  got  no  bunnit,  nor  noth'n'  ?  " 

Mrs.  Sperkley  brought  Camille's  hood  and  shawl,  and, 
in  great  trepidation,  assisted  to  put  them  on.  Then  the 
helpless  form  was  lifted  in  the  arms  of  the  brutal  man,  and 
borne  to  the  sleigh. 

"  Be  careful  with  her/'  said  Oliver  Dole.  "  It's  a  hard 
business  enough,  make  the  best  on't." 

"  Don't  ye  s'pose  I  know  what's  for  my  interest  ?  Of 
course  I'll  be  keerful  ;  I'll  handle  her  like  an  egg.  Make 
a  place  on  the  sleigh-bottom ;  we  can  keep  her  warm  'twixt 
our  feet." 

"  Good  heavens,  don't  drop  her  head  that  way  !" 

"  Lord,  she'll  live  through  it,  only  fix  her  so's  't  she  can 
breathe!"  said  Dickson.  "Seems  to  me  you've  growed 
mighty  chick'n-hearted  since  our  'quaint'nce  begun.  You 
was  fierce  enough  for  the  business  !  But,  since  these 
cussed  North'n  dough-faces  set  up  sech  a  yell  aginst  us, 
you've  looked  a  mighty  sight  like  flunk'n'.  Thar,  she'll  go 
so,  comf'table  enough,  I  reck'n.  Xow,  driver,  git  out  o' 
this  yer  bush  fast  as  yer  horses  '11  carry  us !  " 

The  horses  were  fleet ;  the  driver  staunch,  well-paid,  and 
eager  in  the  hunt ;  and  they  soon  reached  the  opening  of 
the  wood. 

"  Slack  up  half  a  sec'nt !  "  cried  Dickson.  "  How  d'  ye 
git  on,  my  gal  ?  Pooty  comf'table  ?  " 

Camille  lay  still  and  pale  as  death  in  the  position  in 
which  she  had  been  placed.  Her  eyes  were  closed  ;  she  did 
not  speak  ;  she  appeared  scarcely  to  breathe.  Dickson's 
brows  gathered. 

"  I  don't  like  the  looks  o'  that  face  !  I  reck'ned  she'd 
come  to  'fore  this,  and  scream,  and  take  on,  like  they 
gen'ly  do.  I  don't  fancy  driv'n'  through  the  village  with 
her,  nutlier ;  't  would  be  hard  keepV  her  out  o'  sight ;  and 
yer  North'' n  abl'ish'n  folks  are  sech  cussed  fools !  " 

"  T'  other  road  '11  be  'bout  as  near,"  remarked  the  driver. 

"Then  take  it;  and  don't  let  next  spring's  grass  grow 


430  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

under  yer  runners,  nuther  !  S'posV  we  git  her  up,  so's  't 
she  can  suck  the  air  a  little  freer." 

Oliver's  face  was  troubled.  He  bent  anxiously  over  the 
helpless  captive,  endeavoring  to  raise  her  to  an  easier  posi 
tion.  "  How  do  you  feel  now  ?  A  little  better,  ain't  ye  ? 
You  must  pluck  up  courage ;  you're  perfectly  safe ;  you're 
in  the  hands  of  the  law,  and  there  '11  be  no  injustice ;  try 
to  go  through  it  bravely  —  you  will,  won't  ye  ? "  But 
only  a  low  moan  escaped  her,  and  her  head  sank  power- 
lessly  upon  his  arm. 

"There,  I  like  that  better!"  exclaimed  Dickson.  «>S 
long  's  they  can  make  that  noise,  there's  hope  on  'em. 
Oh,  she  '11  git  through  it  somehow.  They  all  act  so. 
Thar's  a  mighty  sight  o'  sham  'bout  these  yer  white  ones. 
They're  'maz'n'  shrewd  ;  tough,  too,  some  on  'em  are." 

"  There's  no  sham  here  !  "  said  Oliver  Dole. 

"  Wai,  sham  or  no  sham,  she's  got  to  go  !  Git  her  safe 
once,  then  I'll  have  a  doctor  look  to  her ;  but  I  ain't  gwine 
to  run  no  resks  !  Don't  her  bunnet  choke  her  ?  " 

Dickson's  impatient  fingers  tore  the  strings.  A  slight 
shrinking  and  shuddering,  as  his  rough  hand  touched  her 
throat,  was  the  only  sign  of  consciousness  she  gave.  All 
external  things  had  grown  dim  and  shadowy  around  her. 
To  Dickson's  brutal  speech,  to  the  officer's  kinder  words,  to 
cruelty,  humiliation,  bodily  pain,  she  was  alike  insensible. 
Not  that  feeling  was  dead,  —  but  one  deep,  unspeakable 
agony  absorbed  all.  She  knew  not  when  the  steeples  and 
chimneys  of  the  county-town  appeared  in  view ;  when  the 
sight  of  the  jail,  with  its  barred  windows  and  grim  stone 
walls,  gladdened  Dickson's  ferocious  eyes  ;  nor  when  the 
commissioner's  house  was  reached. 


Enos  Crumlett  had  as  yet  received  only  ten  dollars  of 
his  promised  reward;  Dickson  at  their  second  interview 
having  witheld  the  rest,  on  the  pretence  of  waiting  until 
the  purchased  information  should  prove  true. 


THE  LAW   TAKES  ITS   COURSE  431 

"  I've  a  friend  that  '11  find  out  mighty  quick  if  thar's 
anything  in  it,"  the  slave-catcher  had  said,  concealing  his 
glee  under  an  air  of  incredulity.  "  If  he  decides  thar  is, 
you  shall  have  iifty  more,  slap  in  yer  fist,  and  t'  other  sixty, 
as  I  agreed,  when  the  gal  is  secured." 

"Hope  there  won't  be  no  mistake  about  it,"  Enos  had 
answered,  pale  and  shaky.  "  I'm  takin'  an  awful  resk. 
There's  consider'ble  feelin'  in  town  'bout  you  an'  your 
business,  an'  it  might  be  all  my  hide's  worth  to  have  it  git 
out  I'm  mixed  up  in  't." 

"  Oh,  you're  all  right ! " 

And  having  appointed  another  meeting  with  Crumlett, 
Dickson  had  gone  off  to  lay  the  whole  matter  before 
his  "  friend ; "  by  which  means  it  turned  out  that  Rob 
Greenwich  became  acquainted  with  the  plans  of  the  slave- 
catchers. 

Enos  was  on  his  way  to  keep  this  last  appointment  when 
he  fell  in  with  Matilda  Fosdick  on  the  street,  and  received 
from  her  the  astounding  intelligence  of  Camille's  flight 
with  Rob  Greenwich.  It  seemed  best  to  meet  the  appoint 
ment,  all  the  same ;  and  hurrying  away  from  her  in  great 
trepidation  he  not  long  after  dropped  out  of  sight  under  the 
bushy  banks  of  a  mountain  brook,  which  he  followed  up  to 
an  old  saw-mill,  abandoned  for  the  winter.  It  was  the 
place  agreed  upon  ;  there  he  stamped  about  on  the  snowy 
boards,  and  knocked  his  toes,  and  swung  his  coon-skin  by 
the  tail  (for  in  his  excitement  his  head  was  hot,  and  his 
feet  were  cold),  waiting  in  vain  for  the  slave-hunter ;  until, 
grown  desperate  in  his  impatience,  and  tired  of  fuming  and 
exclaiming  and  gazing  down  the  road,  he  went  out  upon  it, 
resolved,  if  he  did  not  meet  his  man  by  the  way,  to  seek 
him  at  the  village  tavern. 

At  the  tavern  he  found  an  animated  crowd  gathered, 
and  wild  rumors  flying,  of  Hector's  return  home,  and  his 
riding  furiously  away  a^ain,  of  the  fugitive's  escape  with 
Greenwich,  and  the  slave-hunters  driving  hotly  in  pursuit. 


432  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Horses  and  sleighs  were  in  request,  and  men  were  hastily 
setting  off,  some  "  to  see  the  fun,"  as  they  said,  others  from 
better  motives,  let  us  trust. 

And  now  some  of  those  who  had  started  off  in  pursuit  of 
the  pursuers  came  hurrying  back  to  bring  what  proved  the 
climax  of  exciting  reports.  They  had  seen  the  slave-catch 
ers  driving  rapidly  towards  the  county-town,  by  the  lower 
road,  with  the  form  of  a  woman  partly  reclining  in  the 
sleigh-bottom,  and  partly  supported  between  the  knees  of 
Oliver  Dole. 

"  After  them  !  after  them  !  "  was  the  cry.  The  last  horse 
was  put  into  requisition,  and  many  of  those  who  could  not 
procure  horses  set  off  on  foot. 

All  this  time  the  brains  under  the  ring-tailed  cap  were 
in  a  bewildering  whirl ;  and  at  last  the  legs  under  the  long- 
tailed  greatcoat  started  on  a  run,  to  follow  the  last  of  the 
disappearing  villagers. 

"  Jump  aboard  ! "  cried  a  voice  Mr.  Crumlett  knew,  as  he 
turned  aside  from  the  track  to  let  a  sleigh  pass,  and  seize 
a  chance  for  a  ride. 

The  sleigh  was  drawn  by  a  pair  of  stout  farm-horses, 
at  a  smart  trot,  and  it  contained  only  two  persons,  one  a 
farmer  with  a  broad  and  genial,  but  now  excited  face,  and 
a  boy  about  twelve  years  old. 

"  The  more  the  merrier,  ain't  it,  father  ?  "  said  the  boy, 
making  room  for  Enos  on  the  seat. 

The  driver  had  hardly  slackened  his  speed  to  take  the  pas 
senger  on ;  and  he  now  answered  the  boy  rather  grimly  :  — 

"  If  they're  the  right  kind  !  Here's  an  extry  board  we 
can  put  acrost  the  box  for  a  seat." 

"  I  s'pose  you  heerd  the  news,  Mr.  Jackwood  ? "  said 
Enos,  in  an  unsteady  voice. 

"  Jest  five  minutes  ago,"  replied  the  farmer.  "  I  was  to 
the  store  ;  I'd  jest  got  out  and  left  Bim'lech  to  hold  the 
team,  when  Mr.  Banks  said  I'd  come  to  an  empty  village, 
and  told  me  why." 


THE  LAW  TAKES  ITS   COURSE  433 

t(  It'll  be  too  bad  if  she's  took  back,  won't  it,  now  ?  "  said 
Enos,  with  aguish  sympathy. 

"  She  ain't  goin'  to  be  took  back,"  said  Mr.  Jack  wood 
sternly. 

"  That's  what  I  say  !  "  exclaimed  Enos  ;  "  her  friends  '11 
chip  in  an'  buy  her  off  fust,  won't  they  ?  That's  my 
notion  ! " 

"  We'll  buy  her  if  she's  to  be  bought,  or  we  may  try 
other  methods.  Lawyers  won't  be  of  much  use,  though." 
And  Mr.  Jackwood,  who  seldom  whipped  his  horses,  plied 
the  lash. 

He  had,  as  yet,  but  a  vague  sense  of  what  the  "other 
methods"  were  to  be;  but  through  all  his  agitating  emo 
tions  burned  one  clear  purpose  —  to  pursue,  to  stand  by,  to 
be  faithful  to  the  last,  and  vigilant  to  seize  any  opportunity 
that  might  offer  itself  to  snatch  from  the  kidnappers  their 
precious  prey.  His  thoughts  took  shape  as  he  spoke. 

"  While  some  trip  their  heels,  and  unhitch  their  team, 
the  rest  can  git  her  into  my  sleigh  and  start  her  for 
Canady !  I  ain't  afraid  of  their  pistols." 

Crumlett  turned  pale    to  the   apex  of   his  bleak  nose. 

"  Back  to  slavery  ?  "  the  farmer  resumed,  through  his 
half-closed  teeth.  "'Our  Charlotte!  I'd  as  soon  think  o1 
lettin'  my  own  darter  go!  Jump  on!"  he  called  to  the 
pedestrians,  as  he  overtook  them. 

"'I  guess  I'll  git  off;  I  jes'  's  lives  walk,  an'  make 
room,"  said  Enos.  "  I  ain't  in  no  gre't  of  a  hurry ! " 

"  No,  no,  Crumlett !  "  cried  Jackwood.  "  We  want  every 
good  man.  AVe'll  find  enough  to  jine  us,  'fore  the  day's 
over.  One  bold  rush  —  'twon't  take  more'n  a  dozen  deter 
mined  men  —  an'  I  won't  ask  anybody  to  go  where  I  won't 
lead." 

"  That  Dickson's  a  desprit  cuss  ! "  faltered  Enos  ;  adding 
quickly,  "  So  I've  heerd." 

"  Somebody  else  may  be  desprit  too,  come  case  in 
hand,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  Ketch  on  !  "  To  some  more 


434  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

overtaken  pedestrians.  "We'll  have  a  good  part  of  our 
force  mustered  and  organized  'fore  we  git  there,  or  I  miss 
my  guess." 

Numbers  gave  Enos  courage;  and  he  concluded  to  go 
with  the  crowd,  resolved,  however,  to  find  an  excuse  for 
slipping  speedily  out  of  the  way  the  moment  he  saw  that 
precious  nose  of  his  running  into  danger. 

Complete  arrangements  had  been  made  beforehand  for 
the  preliminary  hearing,  in  the  case  of  the  fugitive  slave 
Milly,  or  Camille.  The  marshal's  deputies  —  a  crew  of 
half  a  dozen  unprincipled  roughs  —  were  lounging  about 
the  private  office  of  the  magistrate  in  waiting,  —  a  hump 
backed,  square-jawed,  Union-saving  judge  who  had  received 
the  appointment  of  United  States  Commissioner  for  this 
special  case,  so  prompt  were  the  authorities  at  Washington 
to  aid  in  any  way  the  schemes  of  Southern  slave-hunters. 

Dickson's  sleigh,  drawn  by  its  foam-covered  horses, 
turned  up  at  the  door,  cheered  by  the  deputies,  who  had 
grown  tired  of  tracking  the  new-fallen  snow  between  it 
and  the  nearest  tavern,  and  stared  at  by  a  crowd  of  loun 
gers  attracted  to  the  spot  by  rumors  of  the  expected  event. 
A  few  low,  quick  words  of  command  from  Dickson  and 
Oliver  Dole ;  then  once  more  Camille,  half-reclining  on  the 
sleigh-bottom,  was  lifted  out ;  strong  arms  bore  her  from 
the  sleigh  ;  behind  her  doors  were  closed ;  she  was  in  a 
strange-looking  room  —  all  this  flitted  like  mist  over  the 
agonizing  dark  of  her  mind  ;  and  she  sat  listless,  dumb, 
with  death  upon  her  face  and  in  her  heart,  while  the  sick 
ening,  horrid  dream  went  on. 

She  was  now  half-conscious  of  human  shapes  thronging 
the  room ;  of  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  some  in  stony  curiosity, 
some  in  feeble  pity ;  of  low  rapid  words  spoken  which 
seemed  somehow  mixed  with  her  fate;  of  a  stern- visaged 
man  at  a  desk,  questioning  and  writing ;  of  a  pale-faced, 
solemn  clock  staring  upon  her  from  the  wall ;  and  in  the 
midst  of  many  things  mingled,  undefined,  whirling  and 


THE  LAW  TAKES  ITS   COURSE  435 

whirling  in  filmy  indistinctness  around  her,  one  terrible 
reality  starting  out,  the  man  Dickson  solemnly  swearing 
that  she  was  the  identical  Milly,  the  property  of  the  claim 
ant,  Dr.  Tan  wood  of  Mobile. 

She  had  no  sense  of  the  time  that  elapsed.  To  Dickson, 
it  was  just  twenty-seven  minutes  by  his  hunting-watch. 
His  brows  blackened  with  impatience.  He  thrust  the 
timepiece  back  into  his  pocket,  and  dashed  the  sweat  from 
his  forehead. 

"  Ain't  we  never  go'n'  to  git  through  ?  What  yer  wait'n' 
for  now  ?  "  The  hump-backed  judge  sat  at  his  desk,  pre 
paring  a  jail  order,  with  a  grimace  of  official  wisdom. 
Oliver  Dole  stood  to  receive  the  document.  Excited  spec 
tators  pressed  around.  In  the  midst,  two  men  supported 
Camille  upon  her  chair.  Others,  stationed  at  the  doors 
and  windows,  kept  back  the  crowd,  that  was  growing  large 
and  clamorous. 

"  Here's  a  man  says  he  wants  to  see  you  on  particular 
business,"  one  of  the  deputies  announced  to  Dickson  ;  and 
that  worthy,  glancing  towards  the  door,  beheld  a  face  he 
knew,  pale  with  excitement,  peering  into  the  court-room 
from  beneath  a  coon-skin  cap. 

Mr.  Crumlett's  original  intention  of  slipping  away,  and 
keeping  his  precious  skin  beyond  all  danger  of  perforation 
from  dirk-knives  or  bullets,  had  been  disconcerted  by  Mr. 
Jackwood. 

"Now,  Enos  ! "  said  the  elder  Abimelech,  grasping  his 
arm  resolutely,  as  he  was  stepping  from  the  sleigh,  '•  you 
stick  right  by  my  side  till  we  find  out  jest  what's  the  best 
thing  to  do  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  to  be  sure  !  the  best  thing  !  "  Crumlett  stam 
mered.  <•'  I'll  stick  like  a  puppy  to  a  root !  " 

"We  don't  want  any  trouble  without  we're  drove  to  it; 
but  we  must  be  ready,"  said  Jackwood.  "  Stand  together, 
all  that  agree  to  help!"  —in  a  low  voice,  to  the  others 
who  were  tumbling  from  the  sleigh.  "  Biin'lech,  you 


436  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

hold  the  hosses !  I  believe  half  the  men  here  will  jine 
us  ;  and  t'other  half  ain't  goin'  to  side  with  the  kidnab- 
bers."  He  asked  a  few  hurried  questions  of  the  by 
standers,  and  then  said  to  Enos,  "One  of  us  has  got  to 
git  in  there  and  see  how  things  are  goin'  on,  and  give 
warnin'  to  the  rest  outside.  I  guess  I  can  do  more  'n  you 
can  out  here,  if  there's  to  be  a  rush  when  she's  brought 
out." 

"  No  doubt  on't !  I  —  I  guess  ye  can  ! "  the  agitated 
Enos  hastened  to  admit. 

"  Besides,  that  hound  Dickson  knows  me.  You're  a 
stranger  to  him." 

"  Yis,  suthin'  of  a  stranger,  though  I  know  him  by  sight." 

"  Wai ! "  Mr.  Jackwood  continued,  not  noticing  Crum- 
lett's  odd  grimace,  "while  I'm  gittin'  our  friends  here 
worked  up  to  the  right  pitch,  and  layin'  our  plans,  you 
squeeze  in  there,  speak  to  the  poor  gal  if  you  can,  and  tell 
her  my  sleigh  is  waitin',  and  her  friends  hain't  forgot  her. 
Then  when  they're  startin'  to  take  her  out,  give  us  a 
signal." 

"What  shall  that  be  ?  "  Enos  wished  to  know. 

"  Swing  your  cap  from  a  winder  or  the  door,  —  we'll 
know  the  coon-skin ;  then  be  ready  to  lend  a  hand." 

"  Oh,  yis  ;  ready  to  lend  a  hand  !  "  Enos  assented,  tossed 
between  two  terrible  anxieties. 

Frightened  as  he  was  at  the  position  in  which  he  found 
himself,  he  was  quick  to  see  that  if  there  was  to  be  a 
rescue,  his  chances  of  getting  money  out  of  Dickson  would 
be  better  before  than  after  it.  He  had  been  wondering 
how  it  would  be  possible  to  speak  a  private  word  to  him, 
without  exciting  suspicion,  and  now  an  opportunity  pre 
sented  itself. 

"  I'll  do  it !  "  he  said,  his  confused  wits  suddenly  illu 
mined  by  an  idea.  "I'll  see  her,  an'  I'll  pump  Dickson, 
'bout  our  buyin'  her,  ye  know.  Anyhow,  I'll  find  out  what 
his  plans  be." 


THE  LAW   TAKES  ITS   COURSE  437 

The  judge's  office  was  by  this  time  so  crowded,  and  it 
was  so  well  guarded,  that  Enos  could  hardly  have  gained 
admission  without  asking  to  see  Dickson  on  "partic'lar 
business." 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it  ?  "  said  the  slave-catcher,  with  a  sar 
castic  leer.  "  Ye  see,  we  got  her  !  " 

"  I  see  ! "  gasped  Enos,  shy  of  appearing  to  be  on  famil 
iar  terms  with  so  unpopular  an  acquaintance,  yet  anxious 
to  conciliate  him. 

He  pulled  off  his  cap,  and  held  it  with  the  tail  dangling 
to  the  floor ;  but  seeing  that  everybody  else  was  covered,  — 
even  the  hump-backed  judge  at  his  desk  had  his  hat  on,  — 
he  pulled  it  over  his  ears  again.     It  seemed  the  most  in 
formal  court  he   had  ever   looked  into.      There  was   much 
confused    talking,    and    everybody   was    standing    but    the 
judge,  if  we  except  such  of  the  spectators  as  were  leaning 
on  the  window-seats;   and  Dickson,  flushed  and  blustering, 
seemed  as  much  in  authority   as   if    he   had   been   sheriff 
of  the  county. 

One  other  person  was  seated,  the  prisoner  between  her 
two  guards,  one  of  them  the  man  Jones,  whose  hand  never 
left  her  shoulder.  'But  for  that  hand,  and  the  one  on  her 
other  arm,  she  looked  as  if  she  might  at  any  moment  slip 
from  the  chair,  and  sink  down  upon  the  sanded  floor.  At 
sight  of  her,  so  pale  and  yet  so  lovely,  and  so  utterly  pros 
trated  by  the  shock  of  fear  and  horror  that  had  come  to 
her  in  her  feeble  condition,  a  qualm  of  remorse  found  its 
way  even  to  the  small  soul  of  the  miserable  Crumlett, 
and  for  a  moment  he  half  forgot  his  own  sordid  interests  in 
his  pity  of  her. 

"  See  here,  you  !  "  he  said,  following  Dickson,  who  had 
turned  away  from  him  immediately. 

'•  Well,  what  ? "  said  the  Southerner,  giving  him  an 
impatient  scowl  over  his  shoulder. 

"  She'll  be  bought,  won't  she  ?  That's  what  you  talked/' 
Enos  added  in  a  low  voice. 


438  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  Who's  gwine  to  buy  her  ?  "  grinned  Dickson. 

"  Wai,  me  an'  Jackwood,  an'  the  rest ;  she's  got  lots  o' 
friends." 

Dickson  gave  a  snort  of  contempt.  "  She's  got  to  go 
back,  jest  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  Her  friends  hain't  got 
money  enough  to  buy  her." 

Enos  stood  stunned  for  a  moment,  then  once  more  pulled 
him  by  the  coat-sleeve. 

"  See  here  !  I'm  in  a  suthin'  of  a  hurry,  an'  if  you'd 
jest  as  lives  "  —  and  he  whispered  in  his  ear. 

"  You're  a  fool !  "  said  Dickson,  with  the  utmost  disgust, 
as  he  flung  him  off.  "  You  can't  show  any  barg'n." 

As  Enos  fell  back,  a  smiling  young  lawyer,  perhaps  eager 
for  a  case,  asked  what  Dickson  had  said  to  him. 

"  He  said  I  was  a  fool ! "  muttered  Enos,  smarting  from 
his  discomfiture. 

"  Make  him  prove  it,"  said  the  smiling  young  lawyer. 

"  Wai,  I  could  ! "  said  Enos. 


BY  THE  ONE  ETERNAL  LAW"  439 


XLIV 


THE  short  January  day  was  near  its  close  ;  the  wan 
twilight  of  the  snow-mantled  earth  shed  a  whitish  glare 
upon  the  faces  in  the  court-room.  The  judge  sanded  his 
mandamus,  and  held  it  up  to  the  light  for  a  scrutinizing 
look  at  it  through  his  spectacles. 

"  Marshal  Dole  ! "  he  called,  pounding  his  desk. 

"  Marshal  Dole  !  "  echoed  Dickson,  pushing  that  officer 
forward. 

There  was  a  hush  of  intense  expectation  as  the  commis 
sioner,  shaking  the  sand  from  the  paper,  folded  it  with  a 
stroke  of  his  fingers,  and  passed  it  over  the  table. 

Oliver  thrust  it  in  his  breast-pocket,  and  with  a  trouble 
of  face  that  might  have  impeached  his  public  conscience, 
turned  to  his  poor  captive. 

"  Got  it  ?  "  cried  Dickson.  "  Cl'ar  the  way  !  Have  yer 
men  on  hand,  marshal  !  If  the  mob  wants  fun,  they  shall 
have  it !  "  And  he  adjusted  a  pistol  beneath  his  coat. 

"  Don't  offer  provocation  !  "  exclaimed  Oliver  huskily. 
"  March  out  peaceable,  and  in  order.  Let  the  girl  take  my 
arm,  'twill  look  better." 

"  Come  !  "  muttered  Dickson,  shaking  Canaille's  shoulder. 

She  started,  and  breathed  quick,  opening  suddenly  and 
wide  her  large,  dark  eyes. 

"  Is  it  —  to-night  ?  "  she  uttered,  like  one  awaking. 

"  Yes,  it's  to-night  !  "  said  Dickson  coarsely.  "  Come, 
ye' re  gwine  to  walk  a  step  or  two,  d'ye  know  it  ?  " 

«  Am  I  —  going  ?  " 


440  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

"  Yes,  my  gal ;  you're  gwine.  Can't  be  helped,  ye  know; 
so  cheer  up,  look  bright,  show  yer  pluck  once  ! " 

"  Let  me  stay  one  night ! "  pleaded  Camille,  in  a  voice  so 
utterly  weak  and  helpless  that  only  those  immediately 
surrounding  her  could  hear. 

"  Have  this  veil  over  yer  face  !  "  said  Dickson.  "  Ye 
don't  want  to  be  seen  look'n'  babyish,  ye  know.  Now  take 
the  marshal's  arm.  I'll  hold  on  t'other  side,  so's  't  ye  sha'n't 
fall.  Be  accommodat'n',  and  't  '11  go  a  mighty  sight  easier 
with  ye  than  if  ye're  contrary,  ye  know."  And,  with  a 
rude  grasp,  he  attempted  to  lift  her  to  her  feet. 

"  Shall  I  never  see  him  again  ?  "  she  implored,  in  a  faint, 
sobbing  utterance.  "  Am  I  to  be  taken  right  away  ?  " 

"  Hang  it  !  "  cried  Dickson,  "  ye're  only  gwine  to  jail,  ye 
know.  So  don't  be  scart,  my  gal.  You'll  be  kep'  there  to 
night  —  and  it  may  be  a  day  or  two  'fore  the  judge  gives 
his  decish'n.  So  spunk  up  ;  it's  got  to  come,  ye  know  ; 
'tain't  no  use  cavin'  in." 

Thereupon,  gathering  some  little  hope,  she  knew  not 
what,  or  wherefore,  Camille  made  a  feeble  effort  to  arise. 

"  That's  the  talk  !  "  said  Dickson,  clasping  her  with  brute 
force.  "  I  got  ye  ;  ye  can't  fall,  if  ye  try.  Keep  up  your 
side,  marshal.  Now  then,  one  foot  right  ahead  o'  t'other; 
no  ninch'n'  !  Thar  I"  —  as  she  made  a  step  towards  the 
door  —  "  what'd  I  tell  ye  ?  Now's  our  time,  marshal !  " 

Camille  stopped  ;  her  limbs  grew  rigid  ;  her  form  bent 
back,  writhing,  as  in  a  mortal  spasm.  Enos,  horrified,  re 
morseful,  hurried  to  give  the  signal  at  the  window. 

"None  o'  that ! "  muttered  Dickson,  shaking  her.  "  Come, 
walk  !  Ye  want  me  to  carry  ye,  hey  ?  " 

She  was  awake.  It  was  no  more  a  dream.  The  awful 
meaning  of  it  all  burst  upon  her.  Freedom,  happiness, 
taken  forever  away  !  Hope,  life,  love,  all,  all  gone  !  A 
fate  more  horrible  than  a  thousand  deaths  awaiting  her  ! 
and  she  alone,  defenceless,  helpless,  delivered  over  to 
ruffians  by  the  LAW  itself ! 


"BY   THE   ONE  ETERNAL   LAW"  441 

She  roused,  and,  tearing  aside  the  veil,  stood  frenzied, 
casting  a  heart-chilling  gaze  around.  There  was  a  pause, 
then  a  tumult  at  the  door ;  and  a  wild  figure,  breaking- 
through  the  crowd,  and  flinging  the  guards  aside,  rushed 
into  the  room.  Camille's  voice  burst  in  a  shriek.  Dickson 
was  hurled  back ;  and  a  swift  arm  snatched  the  sobbing  girl 
from  Oliver  Dole. 

"  She  is  mine  !  "  thrilled  a  proud  voice  through  the  room. 
And  Hector  held  the  throbbing  form  upon  his  heart.  A 
shudder  of  awe  passed  through  the  spectators  ;  officers  and 
judge  recoiled  before  him. 

"  She  is  mine  !  "  said  Diekson,  recovering  himself,  and 
clutching  Camille's  arm  5  "  by  order  of  this  court  —  by  the 
laws  of  the  country  !  " 

Hector  thrust  him  off.  "  She  is  mine,"  he  cried,  "  by 
the  one  eternal  Law  !  " 

"That  don't  hold  in  our  courts  !  "  muttered  Diekson.  "I 
call  upon  the  marshal  to  do  his  duty  !  " 

"  Amen  !  "  Hector  turned  to  the  court,  his  scorn  and 
triumph  quivering  in  every  fibre  of  his  frame,  in  every  line 
and  curve  of  his  defiant  face.  "  I  call  upon  all  to  do  the 
duty  of  men !  There  is  no  power  to  take  from  me  my  own  !  " 

"  You'll  see  !  "  spluttered  Diekson.  "  Yer's  the  judge  ! 
-  Yer's  the  marshal's  force  !  —  she's  got  to  go  !  " 

"  Mr.  Dunbury,"  spoke  the  judge,  "  you  forget  yourself. 
You  are  resisting  the  execution  of  the  law." 

"  Ketch  hold  yer !  "  roared  Diekson.  "  What  ye  all 
about  ?  Why  don't  ye  ketch  holt  ?  "  And,  clutching 
Camille  again,  he  thrust  his  pistol  into  Hector's  face. 
"  Le'  go  this  yer  gal,  or  by  " 

The  oath  was  gulped  back,  and  the  weapon  knocked 
from  his  hand.  The  officers  faltered  ;  the  judge's  feeble 
remonstrance  died  in  his  throat.  Hector  beckoned  to  the 
minion  of  the  law.  "  Give  that  to  your  master  ! "  and  his 
hand  reached  forth  a  paper  to  Oliver  Dole,  who  delivered 
it  to  the  judge. 


442  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

Dickson  made  a  lunge  at  persons  in  the  crowd  who  had 
seized  his  weapon ;  but  it  was  passed  over  their  heads  and 
flung  from  the  window.  Again  there  was  a  hush,  as  the 
judge  glanced  his  eye  over  the  paper.  He  rapped  upon  his 
desk.  There  was  no  need.  Attention  was  breathless. 

"  This  paper  stops  all  legal  proceedings  !  THE  GIRL  is 
FREE  !  " 

The  strained  silence  broke.  A  wild  commotion  filled  the 
room.  In  the  midst  of  all  stood  Hector,  wonderful  to  look 
upon  in  his  proud,  manly  strength,  with  Camille  still  pal 
pitating  upon  his  breast. 

"  She  is  free  !  free ! "  The  cry  ran  from  mouth  to  mouth 
through  the  crowd,  to  be  taken  up  and  echoed  with  glad 
shouts  without. 

"  A  fraud  ! "  Dickson  rushed  to  the  desk.  His  eyes 
flamed  upon  the  paper.  He  stood  a  moment,  stupefied, 
then  smote  the  signature  with  his  fist,  and  broke  out 
huskily,  «  By  God,  it's  Tanwood's  !  " 

Hector  had  turned  to  go.  Oliver  Dole  was  but  too  glad  to 
wash  his  hands  of  their  shameful  work.  There  was  no 
opposition  from  him  or  his  deputies.  A  sleigh  was  in  wait 
ing,  a  small  boy  holding  the  reins,  while  he  danced  up  and 
down  and  gurgled  with  frantic  glee.  Hector  supported 
Camille,  with  his  arm  about  her,  and  guided  her  feet  as 
she  stepped  over  the  threshold.  Several  persons  pressed 
forward  to  assist  them ;  but  he  put  them  all  off  except  one, 
who  greeted  them  with  outstretched  hands  and  tears  of  joy 
running  down  his  face. 

"  Thank  you,  good  Mr.  Jackwood  !  " 

With  tender  hands  the  farmer  helped  him  lift  Camille 
into  the  sleigh.  Then,  having  carefully  arranged  the 
straw,  and  the  buffalo-robe,  about  her  feet,  he  got  in  him 
self  and  took  the  reins  from  Bim'lech.  Hector  wrapped 
his  precious  burden  to  his  breast ;  and  she  who  was  so  late 
a  thing,  a  chattel,  a  slave,  rode  out  of  the  jubilant  and  cheer 
ing  throng,  a  soul,  a  woman,  a  wife  loving  and  beloved. 


RETRI3  UTION  443 


XLV 

RETRIBUTION 

AND  yet  the  jail  had  a  new  inmate  that  night,  and  one 
concerned  in  our  history.  Alone,  within  the  compass  of 
its  narrow  walls,  behind  an  iron-grated  door,  sat  Robert 
Greenwich. 

The  faint  gleam  of  the  sunset  that  tinged  the  high, 
barred  windows  had  long  since  faded.  The  twilight  gloom 
deepened.  What  was  Robert  thinking  at  that  hour  ? 
What  change  had  come  over  him  since,  haughty  and  erect, 
but  ghastly  pale,  tearing  his  glossy  mustache  with  his 
shaking  hand,  he  marched  through  the  iron  doors,  under 
the  sheriff's  charge  ? 

Darker  still  grew  the  prison.  Suddenly  there  was  a 
clanking  of  doors  and  jingling  of  keys.  The  jailer,  enter 
ing  with  a  lantern,  approached  the  prisoner's  cell. 

The  yellow  light  revealed  him  seated  on  his  narrow  iron 
bed.  He  was  scarcely  recognizable.  His  visage  was  dis 
torted  ;  he  seemed  to  have  grown  old  a  dozen  years. 

"  Mr.  Greenwich,"  spoke  the  jailer.  A  fierce  down-look, 
a  dark,  despairing  scowl,  but  no  motion  or  word  of  reply. 
"  Is  there  any  person  you  wish  to  send  for  ?  " 

Robert  turned  up  his  haggard  eyes.  "  Does  my  father 
know  ?  "  By  that  hollow  voice  one  would  not  have  guessed 
the  speaker. 

"  He  has  been  sent  for.  He  should  be  here  soon.  Any 
thing  else  ?  " 

"  No  ! "  The  keeper  hung  his  lantern  upon  a  pendent 
chain  in  the  common  hall ;  then,  walking  away  with  his 


444  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

jingling  keys,  the  heavy  prison-doors  closed  after  him 
with  a  dismal  jar. 

Two  prisoners,  at  large  in  the  common  hall,  placed  a 
light  wooden  table  beneath  the  swinging  lamp,  and,  pro 
ducing  a  well-worn  pack  of  cards,  commenced  a  cheerful 
game  of  all-fours.  No  other  society  in  the  jail ;  no  sounds 
but  their  quiet  conversation.  Robert  shrunk  back  within 
the  shadow  of  his  cell,  burying  his  face  in  his  hands,  that 
he  might  neither  see  nor  hear. 

In  a  little  while  supper  was  brought  him.  The  men  ate 
at  their  table,  with  appetite,  putting  aside  their  cards. 
Eobert  seized  his  pitcher  and  drank  plentifully,  but  left 
the  food  untasted  ;  then  sat  still  as  before,  save  that  now 
and  then  his  breath  came  hissing  through  his  teeth,  and 
the  ague  of  despair  shook  the  bunk  on  which  he  sat. 

Once  more  the  iron  doors  opened,  and  a  visitor,  entering, 
was  locked  in  the  jail.  He  was  a  spare  man,  with  a 
wrinkled  face,  and  a  stern,  dictatorial  expression.  Walk 
ing  with  a  quick  step  towards  the  cell  to  which  the  keeper 
pointed  him,  he  gazed  at  the  wretched  object  seated 
within.  "  SON  ROBERT  ! "  he  enunciated,  in  amazed  and 
indignant  accents. 

"  Ah  !  you  have  come ! "  cried  Robert,  starting  up,  and 
glaring  out  upon  him  from  under  his  disordered  hair. 

"  Son  Robert,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  " 

"  It  means  death  ! "  said  Robert's  husky  voice. 

Drops  of  sweat  started  from  the  squire's  astonished  face. 

"  Son  Robert,  are  you  insane  ?  " 

The  prisoner  wiped  the  foam  from  his  lips  unconsciously, 
and  pressed  against  the  iron  bars. 

"  Does  it  seem  so  strange  to  you,  to  find  me  here  ?  " 

"  Strange,  son  Robert  ?  Strange  ?  "  and,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  the  prisoner  heard  a  tremor  of  emotion  in 
his  father's  voice.  "  You  assuredly  are  not  guilty  " 

"  I'm  guilty  of  all ! "  Robert  thrust  his  forehead,  with 
its  tangled  hair,  against  the  bars.  "  My  life  is  blasted.  I 


EETRIB  UTION  445 

have  no  future.  My  career  ends  here.  And  I  have  you  to 
thank  !  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Son  Robert,"  articulated  the  squire,  "  I  DO  NOT  under 
stand  ;  I  am  overwhelmed  !  I  could  not  believe  my  ears 
when  that  I  heard  of  your  arrest.  I  cannot  now  believe 
my  senses  when  that  I  see  and  hear  you !  Is  it  my  son 
Robert  whom  I  see  caged  like  an  enraged  beast  ?  " 

"  Old  man  !  "  said  Robert,  "  hear  me  !  It  is  for  the  last 
time,  so  heed  me  !  Since  the  earliest  years  I  can  remem 
ber,  I  have  had  a  burning  hatred  in  my  heart  for  you  ! 
When  I  was  a  child,  not  a  day  passed  but  I  said,  '  Some 
time  he  shall  hear  of  this  ! '  That  time  has  come.  The 
hell  that  has  been  all  my  life  kindling  is  bursting  forth." 

"  Son  Robert  !  beware  !  Pause  before  you  speak.  Re 
member  whom  you  address  !  Respect  the  paternal  head  !  " 

"  Remember  !  —  would  I  could  forget !  Respect !  —  how 
have  I  learned  to  hate  !  I  can't  recall  a  single  kind  or 
loving  word  that  ever  you  spoke  to  me.  You  were  the 
tyrant  —  always !  You  ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron.  My 
most  trivial  faults  were  punished  with  cruelty.  If  there 
was  any  goodness  in  me,  you  crushed  it  out ;  while  every 
evil  trait  I  inherited — from  you  —  was  kept  alive  IHJ  you 
—  provoked  and  strengthened  by  your  despotism !  Re 
venge  became  a  part  of  me.  Because  I  dared  not  vent  it 
against  you,  I  poured  it  upon  others.  That  passion  tired 
the  rest.  Now  you  behold  me  here  !  And  I  tell  you  I 
have  you  to  thank  !  Take  that,  my  parting  gift,  and  hug 
it  to  your  breast  when  I  am  gone  ! " 

"  Me  to  thank  !  Truly,  truly,"  -  —  the  squire's  agitated 
hands  struggled  with  his  stifling  cravat,  and  his  broken 
voice  was  pitiful  to  hear,  —  "  truly,  son  Robert,  you  are 
beside  yourself  !  Who  reared  you  up,  from  infancy,  with 
unswerving  care  ?  Who  disciplined  your  youth  in  all 
wholesome  exercises  of  the  mind  ?  Who  kept  you  at  the 
Sabbath-school  and  at  church  ?  Who  put  into  your  hands 
healthful  moral  treatises,  and  gave  you  tasks  from  the 


446  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Scriptur's  to  commit  to  memory  ?  Who  taught  you  filial 
reverence,  and  respect  for  gray  hairs  ?  0  wretched  young 
man !  where  are  the  talents  intrusted  to  your  keeping  ? 
Where  are  the  seeds  a  pious  parent  planted  ?  " 

"  The  talents  have  brought  me  here ;  this  is  the  harvest 
of  the  seeds  !  You  did  all  that  you  boast  of,  and  so  I  say 
I  thank  you  ;  for,  by  the  very  means  you  used,  you  made 
me  hate  you  and  your  lessons.  I  loathed  the  Sabbath- 
school,  because  driven  to  it  with  a  rod.  I  never  came 
near  a  Bible  but  I  struck  or  kicked  it,  because  of  those 
hated  tasks.  I  am  calm  now  ;  I  utter  my  solemn  convic 
tions,  and  you  know  I  tell  truths  !  " 

"  Indeed,"  groaned  the  squire,  "  indeed  I  do  not  know  ! 
My  pride  was  in  you,  my  son,  0  my  son  !  I  longed  for 
the  time  when  that  we  should  behold  you  an  ornament  and 
an  honor  to  the  respectable  name  of  Greenwich.  I  labored 
faithfully  to  that  end.  And  is  this  the  result  ?  " 

Sobs  broke  the  old  man's  utterance.  Still  he  struggled, 
as  from  long  habit,  to  maintain  his  dignified  speech  and 
deportment;  and  it  was  touching  to  see  the  flood  of  his 
emotions  bursting  through  the  wreck  of  his  poor,  shattered 
pride.  Robert  looked  on  luridly. 

"There  may  be  points"  —the  squire  confessed,  wiping 
his  wrinkled  brow — "wherein  I  have  fallen  somewhat 
short  of  the  highest  wisdom.  But,  had  I  erred  in  all,  I 
find  no  excuse  for  you.  Still,  you  are  my  son.  You  bear 
the  respectable  name  of  Greenwich.  And  whatever  your 
faults,  how  glaring  soever  your  ingratitude  to  my  venerable 
hairs,  I  can  yet  find  it  in  my  heart  to  render  you  service." 

"  You  can  render  none.  I  will  accept  none.  My  hands 
have  plunged  into  crime,  and  I  choose  to  meet  the  penal 
ties." 

"  Crime  !  crime  !  a  son  of  Squire  Greenwich  ?  crime  !  " 

"  That  is  the  word  !  Would  you  be  gratified  to  know 
the  history  ?  " 

"  I  would  know,  though  my   heart   be   cleft  in  twain ! 


RETRIBUTION  447 

But,  I  beseech  you,  speak  not  in  such  bitterness  and 
wrath." 

"Fair  words,  then,  they  shall  be;  I'll  be  tender  with 
your  nerves,  old  man !  And  the  story  shall  be  short, 
though  it  goes  back  to  times  long  before  I  left  home.  My 
vices  ripened  early.  But  I  had  learned  hypocrisy  in  so 
perfect  a  family  school,  that  you  knew  little  of  the  wild 
nights  I  wasted,  escaping  from  the  house  by  stealth,  and 
seizing  what  pleasure  I  could,  in  recompense  for  your 
tyranny  by  day.  When  I  came  of  age,  you  gave  me  the 
liberty  you  could  no  longer  restrain ;  I  went  South,  got  into 
business,  gambled,  spent  more  than  I  earned,  and  ended  by 
running  away  with  a  slave-girl,  who  showed  her  good  sense 
afterward  by  running  away  from  me.  You  know  some 
thing  of  her  history.  I  followed  her  to  Canada,  where  I 
fell  in  with  a  first-class  scamp  named  Sperkley.  He  knew 
another  scamp  who  had  invented  a  spurious  coin ;  and  as 
they  proposed  to  set  up,  on  a  small  scale,  an  opposition  to 
the  legitimate  mint,  I  was  invited  to  join  them.  I  asked 
nothing  better ;  and  we  fitted  up  an  old  house  in  the  woods, 
and  established  an  apparatus.  I  have  distributed  a  good 
deal  of  the  proceeds.  In  short,  I  was  brought  here  for 
counterfeiting.  I  might  have  escaped,  but  by  ill-luck  I  fell 
in  first  with  that  accursed  Hector,  then  with  the  sheriff. 
On  my  way  here,  I  learned  of  my  friend  Sperkley's  arrest, 
in  Burlington.  His  faithful  housekeeper,  who  passes  for 
his  wife,  will  expect  him  home  in  vain.  Then  there  are 
the  slave-catchers  ;  they  will  concentrate  all  their  rage  on 
me.  I  set  them  on  Camille's  track,  and  no  questions  were 
to  be  asked,  as  to  the  hand  I  had  in  her  escape ;  but  I  had 
not  the  virtue  to  be  faithful  even  to  them.  So,  you  see,  the 
son  of  respectable  Squire  Greenwich"  —what  fierce  sarcasm 
in  those  words  !  —  "is  provided  for.  I  staked  everything 
—  I  have  lost  —  and  this  is  the  end  ! " 

"  God  of  mercies  ! "  groaned  the  squire,  "  what  do  I 
hear  ?  Son  Robert,  my  only  son,  the  hope  of  my  old  age ! 


448  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

—  you  a  double  criminal  —  arrested  —  to  be  brought  before 
a  public  court  —  tried,  condemned,  sentenced  —  0  God  ! 
can  all  this  be  in  store  ?  " 

"  Not  quite  ! "  said  Robert,  with  dark  significance. 
'•''Twill  be  a  shorter  agony.  Good-by  ;  remember  what  I 
have  said.  I  have  thrown  that  burden  off.  Now  go  — 
I  would  be  alone." 

"But,  my  son,"  sobbed  the  broken-hearted  old  man, 
"  while  that  I  return  to  my  dishonored  and  desolate  home, 
let  me  at  least  carry  with  me  the  consolation  of  know 
ing  that  you  are  contrite  and  repentant "  - 

"  Carry  with  you  my  hatred  and  my  curse ! "  said 
Robert ;  "  it  is  all  I  have  for  you,  and  a  good-night  to  you ! 
May  your  sleep  be  always  peaceful,  as  it  will  be  this 
night ! " 

The  keeper  reappeared  ;  and  now  the  prisoner  shrank 
back  into  his  cell.  The  heart-crushed  parent,  shaking  with 
the  palsy  of  his  grief,  struggled  long  within  himself  before 
he  found  voice  again  to  speak. 

"  Son  Robert,"  -  —  the  keeper  was  looking  on,  and  it  was 
sad  to  see  the  flickering  ghost  of  the  poor  old  man's  dignity 
rise  up  once  more,  —  "I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning." 

"  Let  me  advise  you  to  come  early  !  "  muttered  Robert. 

The  keeper  advanced.  "  I  shall  do  all  in  my  power  to 
make  your  son  comfortable,  Squire  Greenwich ;  and  if  he 
has  any  commands  " 

"  What  are  these  men  in  for  ?  "  asked  Robert,  designat 
ing  the  card-players. 

"  The  one  in  shirt-sleeves,  for  stealing  a  horse ;  the  other, 
for  killing  one  of  his  children  in  a  drunken  fit." 

"  Is  the  thing  I  am  accused  of  so  much  worse  than  theft 
or  murder,  that,  while  they  have  the  liberty  of  the  jail,  it 
is  necessary  to  keep  me  caged  ?  " 

"  Oh,  by  no  means  !  But,  when  you  were  brought  in,  it 
was  thought  advisable,  for  a  while  " 

"  You  see  I  am  calm  now." 


RETRIBUTION  449 

The  keeper  selected  a  particular  key  from  the  bunch,  and 
cheerfully  unlocked  the  door  of  the  cell.  The  squire, 
meanwhile,  had  tottered  to  the  entrance.  The  two  went 
out  together.  Then  Robert  threw  himself  upon  his  bunk, 
and  lay  there,  tossing  about,  until  the  suspended  lamp 
burned  out,  and  the  card-players  groped  their  way  in  the 
dark  to  their  separate  cells. 

0  night !  0  agony  !  0  remorse  !  —  darkness  and  woe,  and 
the  worm  that  gnaweth  the  heart !  Swords  of  flame  flash 
all  around  the  Eden  of  the  soul,  and  the  sinner,  seeking  to 
rush  in  with  impure  feet,  is  lightning-stricken  with  their 
fiery  tongues.  Only  through  righteousness  can  we  enter 
the  blessed  precincts  of  love  and  peace  :  and  night,  and 
agony,  and  remorse  —  darkness  and  woe,  and  the  worm 
that  gnaweth  the  heart  —  God  sends  to  teach  the  LAW. 

All  night  Kobert  lay  in  his  torment.  But  at  the  earliest 
glimmer  of  dawn  he  arose,  and  sat  upon  his  bed.  There 
was  now  a  sort  of  calmness  in  his  face,  a  fearful  repose. 
And  so  he  sat,  while  the  slow,  cold  dawn  advanced,  twirl 
ing  and  twirling  his  silken  cravat  in  his  hands.  At  length 
he  got  up,  and  opened  the  door  of  his  cell. 

Darkness  still  hovered  in  the  jail.  But  from  the  high 
windows  a  faint  grayish  light  radiated  upon  the  walls,  and 
streamed  along  the  floor.  Kobert  stepped  noiselessly  across 
the  hall.  He  reached  the  table  where  the  card-players  had 
sat  the  night  before,  stepped  upon  it  with  his  knotted 
cravat  in  his  hand,  listened  for  a  moment  to  the  heavy 
breathing  in  the  cells,  then  carefully  removed  the  lantern 
from  the  chain. 

What  stillness  !  what  solemnity !  what  gloom  !  Suddenly 
there  was  a  crash.  The  table  had  fallen ;  the  lantern 
rattled  upon  the  floor.  The  horse-stealer  started  from  his 
sleep.  He  rose  up  ;  he  gazed  listening,  affrighted,  in  his 
cell.  But  did  he  hear  the  struggles,  the  conflict  of  life  and 
death,  or  see  the  dim,  ghostly  figure  swinging  by  the 
chain  ? 


450  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 


XLVI 

CLOSING   SCENES 

STRANGE  is  this  boon  of  existence  !  How  sacred  !  how 
fatal !  how  sweet !  0  sorrow  !  0  love  !  0  despair !  why 
have  ye  conspired  ? 

Beautiful  is  this  dear,  warm  flesh  !  The  miracle  of  the 
heart-beat,  of  the  rushing  blood,  how  wonderful !  Sensa 
tion,  how  delicious  !  Thought,  affection,  aspiration,  the 
delirium  of  joy  —  thank  God  for  all.  Yet  beware,  0  man ! 
O  woman  !  penalty  and  peril  hem  us  in  ;  and  we  know  not 
how  terrible  a  thing  it  is  to  profane  the  sanctity  of  the 
soul. 

Sin,  tumult,  endless  toil,  a  little  laughter,  many  tears, 
agony,  longing,  and  the  baffling  search  :  such  is  man's  his 
tory.  O  Father  !  pity  thy  children  ! 

Life  is  a  fiery  furnace,  and  none  see  God  save  those  who 
have  passed  through  the  burning.  Purification  is  born  of 
the  fire  ;  the  faithful  shall  not  perish  ;  brightness,  triumph, 
heaven,  await  us  ;  and  to  some  there  comes  great  peace.  If 
there  is  anything  for  which  one  should  thank  God,  it  is 
peace.  In  that  still  lake  sleep  all  life's  turbulent  streams. 
Its  bosom  is  the  mirror  of  God ;  and  heaven  lies  deep  with 
in. 

A  hush  pervaded  Mr.  Jackwood's  house.  There  were 
words  —  but  how  gently  spoken  !  there  was  laughter  —  but 
how  subdued  and  mellow !  there  were  tears —  but  how 
bright  and  happy  ! 

"  This  'ere  's  a  day  wuth  livin'  to  see  ! "  observed  the 
farmer.  He  sat  upon  a  keg  in  the  corner,  whittling  an  ox- 


CLOSING    SCENES  451 

bow  ;  but,  somehow,  he  could  not  work  ;  his  eyes  now  and 
then  grew  misty,  and  he  would  pause,  holding  his  hands 
abstractedly,  his  countenance  beaming  with  the  light  of  a 
deep,  earnest  joy.  "  Don't  seem  to  me  it's  right  to  work  ; 
it's  kind  o'  like  Sunday." 

"  Don't  le's  !  "  said  Bim,  who  had  been  set  to  scour  the 
table-knives,  but  who  took  a  great  deal  more  interest  in  his 
mother's  baking.  "  I  got  two  on  'em  bright  —  this  one's 
for  Charlotte,  anyhow  !  Let  the  rest  go  —  I  would  !  " 

"  Come,  come !  "  his  mother  spoke  up  cheeringly,  "  work 
away,  or  you  won't  have  enough  to  set  the  table  with. 
The  pies  '11  take  care  o'  themselves." 

"  Make  'em  good,  anyway  !  "  exclaimed  Bim.  "  Char 
lotte  likes  lots  o'  sugar  in  'em." 

"  Bim  speaks  two  words  for  himself,"  chimed  Phoebe's 
musical  voice.  "  Here's  a  little  crust  left,  what  shall  I 
do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Bake  Rove  a  turnover/'  cried  Bim,  "  and  I'll  eat  it  for 
him  !  " 

"  Shall  I,  mother  ?  " 

"  Law,  yes  ;  do  gratify  the  boy  !  But  you  must  do  them 
knives  !  " 

"  Ain't  I  ?  "  said  Bim.  He  was  holding  the  dog's  lips 
apart  with  his  fingers,  for  the  purpose  of  inserting  brick- 
dust  from  the  scouring-board.  "  Rove's  teeth  are  gittin' 
rusty,  and  I  want  'em  to  look  white  for  comp'ny." 

The  baking  progressed  finely.  The  big  oven  had  been 
heated  for  the  occasion.  Extraordinary  cakes,  extravagant 
pies,  emulous  puffy  biscuits,  —  not  to  speak  of  Rover's 
aristocratic  turnover,  —  rested  snugly  in  the  corners,  and 
bubbled,  smoked,  and  swelled  in  the  genial  heat.  They 
seemed  to  know,  as  well  as  anybody,  that  they  were  no 
common  cooking  ;  and  to  feel  a  pride  in  coming  out  with 
plump,  handsome  brown  faces  with  dimples  where  Phoebe's 
fork  had  pricked,  fit  to  appear  before  the  choice  company 
in  which  they  were  to  have  the  honor  of  being  eaten. 


452  NEIGHBOR  JACKWOOD 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  exclaimed  Phoebe,  "  I  don't  know  what  to 
do !  I  want  to  laugh  and  cry  !  I  wish  it  was  dinner-time  ; 
then  I  could  have  an  excuse  to  go  to  their  room  and  call 
them." 

"  Ain't  there  somebody  to  the  front  door  ? "  said  Mr. 
Jackwood.  "  Go  and  see,  Bim'lech." 

Bim  went  skipping  along  the  floor,  followed  by  Eover, 
barking.  Mr.  Eukely  entered.  There  were  warm  greet 
ings  between  him  and  the  farmer,  questions,  and  earnest 
congratulations. 

"  Why,  father  !  "  said  Mrs.  Jackwood,  with  the  kindliest 
of  smiles,  and  with  mist  in  her  eyes  the  while,  "you 
hardly  know  what  you're  about,  I  do  declare !  " 

In  his  excitement  he  had  offered  Mr.  Eukely  the  keg  to 
sit  down  upon.  Mr.  Eukely  remained  standing. 

"  Set  the  big  chair,  Phoebe  !  "  said  the  farmer. 

Mr.  Eukely  couldn't  stop ;  he  had  called  to  see  Hector. 

"  I  do'no'  nobody  they'll  be  gladder  to  see  ! "  cried  Mr. 
Jackwood.  "  The  way  they  spoke  o'  you  '11'  your  wife,  — 
what  you'd  done  for  'em,  —  wal,  'tain't  often  anything 
comes  over  me  as  that  did !  Go  to  the  spare  room, 
Phoebe ;  don't  be  noisy,  but  step  light,  an'  jest  rap  kind 
o'  gentle  on  the  door." 

Phoebe  could  have  asked  no  happier  commission.  To  be 
near  Camille,  to  hear  the  tones  of  Hector's  voice,  to  look 
upon  their  faces  for  a  moment,  was  delight  enough  for  her. 

"  Yes,  sir  ! "  cried  Mr.  Jackwood,  "  'twas  great !  You 
should  ben  there  to  see !  You  never'd  git  over  it  the 
longest  day  o'  your  life,  Mr.  Eukely  !  I  hope  I  ain't 
proud ;  but  I  can't  help  thinkin'  'twas  my  sleigh  't  they 
got  right  into,  an'  't  I  drove  'em  away !  I  hope  I  ain't 
revengeful,  nuther ;  but  I  did  feel  a  grudge  agin  them  kid- 
nabbers,  an'  I  —  Wal,  'twas  good  enough  for  'em !  I 
can't  help  sayin'  so  much,  anyway." 

"  They  was  goin'  to  have  our  farm ! "  observed  Bim 
disdainfully. 


CLOSING   SCENES  453 

"  I  guess  they'll  let  us  alone/'  said  his  father  genially. 
"  They  sneaked  out  o'  town  las'  night,  like  a  couple  o' 
sheep-stealers.  It  'pears  they  tallygrafted  that  Cha'lotte 
was  drownded;  an'  that's  what  made  her  owner  —  as  he 
called  himself  —  so  ready  to  sell  out.  A  smart  young  law 
yer  done  the  business  for  Hector,  an'  got  the  man  to  sign 
off  for  little  or  nothin',  I  guess ;  though  I  couldn't  find  out 
jest  how  much.  That's  a  terrible  hard  story  they  tell  'bout 
Enos  Crumlett.  Seems  curis,  arter  the  part  I  made  him 
play  yisterday." 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  true,"  replied  the  minister.  "  Matilda 
is  quite  distressed  about  it." 

ik  lie  done  one  good  thing,"  said  Mr.  Jackwood.  "  'Twas 
him  that  flung  the  kidnabber's  pistol  from  the  winder,  when 
it  was  passed  over  to  him,  where  he'd  stationed  himself 
to  give  us  the  signal  when  she  was  to  be  brought  out.  I 
tell  ye,"  he  added,  with  a  genial  laugh,  "  this  slave-ketchin' 
must  be  a  perty  mean  business  when  it  turns  sich  stomachs, 
an'  makes  men  like  Crumlett  kick  agin  it.  As  for  that 
other  traitor,  Rob  Greenwich,  I  hope  he'll  git  his  deserts." 

"  You  haven't  heard "  —  said  Mr.  Rukely,  a  shadow 
passing  over  his  face. 

"  I  heard  he  was  took  up  for  counterfeitin'.  Hector's 
ruimin'  him  down  happened  complete  for  the  sheriff;  he 
come  up  with  his  warrant  jest  in  time  to  clap  hands  on 
Rob's  shoulder,  an'  irons  on  his  wrists,  'fore  he  got  out  of 
Hector's  clutches.  That's  what  made  Hector  late  to  the 
trial." 

Mr.  Rukely  reported,  in  addition,  a  startling  piece  of 
intelligence  that  had  spread  through  the  town  that  mcrn- 
ing.  Astonishment  and  solemnity  fell  upon  the  listeners. 

"  His  poor  father  'n'  mother !  "  said  Mrs.  Jackwood. 
"  Don't  mention  it  to  Phoebe,  she's  too  happy  to-day." 

"  What  is  suicide  ?  "  cried  Bim. 

"  Hush  !  —  'tain't  nothin'  you  need  to  know  'bout ! "  said 
his  father. 


454  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

Phoebe  reappeared,  radiant.  "He's  coining  right  out, 
and  I'm  going  back  to  stay  with  Charlotte." 

A  minute  later  the  door  again  opened.  A  thrill  ran 
through  Mr.  Rukely's  ordinarily  sluggish  veins.  The 
countenance  that  shone  upon  him  was  in  itself  a  life-his 
tory,  a  revelation.  How  changed  since  he  last  saw  it ! 
Older,  yet  younger  and  brighter;  sadder,  yet  immeasur 
ably  more  happy ;  deeply  thoughtful,  deeply  humble,  yet 
smiling  with  the  sweet,  subdued  effulgence  of  love  and 
peace.  Such  was  Hector  on  that  memorable  morning.  He 
grasped  Mr.  Kukely's  hand,  and  they  conversed  a  few  mo 
ments  in  presence  of  the  family ;  then  Hector  led  the  way 
to  Camille's  chamber. 

The  young  wife  was  reclining  by  a  cheerful  wood  fire, 
on  the  pillows  of  an  easy-chair.  With  a  smile  of  won 
drous  beauty  and  sweetness  she  welcomed  her  friend,  and 
the  hand  she  gave  him  seemed  all  alive  with  the  tremulous 
emotions  of  her  heart. 

Was  Mr.  Eukely  surprised  to  see  her  blooming  with 
promise  of  fair  health  ?  Ah,  then,  he  did  not  know  what 
magic  lies  in  the  sunshine  of  Love's  face  —  what  subtle 
streams  of  life  pour  down  into  the  very  springs  of  our 
being  from  the  sympathy  and  magnetic  touch  of  those 
we  hold  most  dear. 

Mr.  E-ukely  had  been  sent  for,  that  morning,  by  Mrs. 
Dunbury.  He  had  found  her  greatly  changed.  The  excite 
ment  that  had  sustained  her  through  a  long  and  terrible 
trial,  subsiding,  had  left  her  extremely  low.  Charlotte  was 
saved,  Hector  was  happy;  she  felt  that  she  had  nothing 
more  to  live  for,  and  peaceful,  not  reluctant,  she  calmly 
awaited  the  end.  After  what  had  passed,  knowing  Hec 
tor's  spirit,  knowing  Charlotte's  wrongs  and  sufferings, 
she  could  not  hope  that  they  would  return  to  the  house 
from  which  a  father's  wrath  had  exiled  them.  But  she 
had  sent  Mr.  Rukely  to  them  with  her  love  and  blessing. 

Also,   before  setting  out,   the  young  minister  had  con- 


CLOSING  SCENES  455 

versed  with  Mr.  Dunbury.  He  spoke  of  that  interview ; 
but,  at  mention  of  his  father,  Hector  shook  his  head,  with 
a  look  of  infinite  sadness. 

"  I  know  no  father  ! "  he  said. 

"  I  have  obtained  his  consent,"  Mr.  Rukely  went  on, 
"  for  you  to  return  home." 

"  Home  ?  "  came  the  low  echo  from  Hector's  heart,  and 
a  heaving  emotion  struggled  in  his  face,  as  he  looked  upon 
Camille ;  "  where  the  spirit  is  at  rest,  is  home ;  hearts'  love 
is  home  ;  I  am  at  home  !  " 

"  What  reply  shall  I  make  to  Mr.  Dunbury  ?  " 

"  Take  to  him  these  words." 

"  And  your  mother  ?  " 

"Oh,  my  mother!  Tell  her  my  soul  loves  her;  and 
souls  that  love,  though  divided  on  earth,  reunite  in 
heaven." 

It  had  been  a  comfort  to  learn  that  Mrs.  Longman  - 
Camille's  dear  Canadian  friend,  who  had  come  to  Edward's 
funeral  —  would  remain  with  her  relatives.  Xo  kinder 
hand,  no  warmer  heart  than  hers,  could  have  been  sent  to 
administer  to  the  failing  invalid.  Still  Hector  felt  it  as 
a  deep  wrong,  Camille  as  a  sad  privation,  that  they,  who 
owed  her  so  much  love  and  gratitude,  they,  who  were 
dearer  to  her  than  all  the  world,  should  be  so  near,  and 
yet  attend  not  at  the  pillow  of  the  dying  woman. 

Three  days  passed,  —  days  of  hitherto  inconceivable 
happiness,  marred  by  but  one  shade  of  sorrow.  They  still 
remained  the  welcome  occupants  of  the  spare  room  in  Mr. 
Jackwood's  house.  As  Camille's  strength  increased,  Hec 
tor  was  beginning  to  think  of  some  quiet  little  home  in  the 
village,  but  something  said,  "  Wait !  "  On  the  forenoon 
of  the  fourth  day,  Corny  was  announced. 

"  I  got  a  letter  for  ye,  somewheres,"  said  that  young 
gentleman,  making  thorough  investigations  in  his  pockets. 
"  Hello  !  what's  this  ?  I'd  like  to  know  !  "  A  worn  and 
soiled  envelope  was  brought  to  light,  "I  didn't  know 


456  NEIGHBOR  JACK  WOOD 

I  had  that !  Oh,  I  remember !  —  it's  what  they  gi'  me  in 
the  village,  one  day,  for  Mis'  Dunb'ry,  —  an'  I  don't  b'lieve 
I  ever  thought  on't  till  this  minute  !  " 

Hector  tore  the  envelope,  took  out  a  slip  of  paper,  and 
unfolded  it,  —  'twas  his  own  telegraphic  despatch  from 
Mobile,  sent  to  warn  Camille  of  her  danger.  He  bit  his 
lip,  but,  without  a  word,  passed  it  to  his  wife.  Meanwhile 
Corny  had  produced  another  letter. 

"  That  looks  more  like  !  The  ol'  man  tol'  me  to  bring  it 
over.  He's  ben  ra'al  dumpy  lately;  an'  it's  about  the 
fust  time  he's  spoke  for  five  or  six  days.  He  don't  growl 
to  me  no  more,  as  he  used  to ;  I  guess  it's  cause  he's  had 
some  talks  with  Mis'  Dunb'ry ;  for  when  he  comes  out  o' 
her  room,  his  eyes  look  kinder  red  an'  watery,  's  if  he'd 
like  to  cry,  if  he  wa'n't  a  man.  They  don't  spec'  she'll 
live." 

"  Camille  !  "  said  Hector,  with  solemn  and  anxious  looks, 
"  the  hour  has  come  !  We  must  go  to  our  mother  !  " 

No  time  was  to  be  lost.  A  few  minutes  sufficed  for  all 
preparation.  Corny  had  come  for  them  in  the  cutter ;  it 
was  waiting  at  the  door.  The  family  made  haste  to  warm 
blankets,  and  a  foot-stove  was  filled,  to  place  at  Camille's 
feet.  Their  thoughtful  kindness  was  too  much  for  the 
young  wife.  She  pressed  Mr.  Jackwood's  hand  to  her  lips, 
blessing  him  and  his,  from  the  bursting  fulness  of  her 
heart. 

"  If  anybody  should  be  thankful,  it's  me  ! "  declared  the 
farmer,  brushing  the  tears  from  his  honest  cheeks.  "  Your 
comin'  into  my  house,  fust  and  last,  has  ben  a  blessin'  to 
me  an'  to  all ;  I  can't  be  thankful  enough  for't ! " 

Hector  wrung  the  farmer's  hand.  Words  seemed  too 
feeble  to  express  what  swelled  and  burned  within  his 
breast. 

He  placed  Camille  in  the  sleigh.  Mrs.  Jackwood  wrapped 
the  blankets  around  her,  the  farmer  adjusted  the  foot-stove 
to  her  feet,  Phoebe  arranged  her  veil,  Bim  stood  holding 


CLOSING   SCENES  457 

the  horse.  A  moment  after,  they  were  gone ;  and  loving 
faces,  tearful  eyes,  watched  them  as  they  rode  out  of 
sight. 

It  was  the  close  of  a  very  fair,  calm  winter's  day.  The 
forests  on  the  mountain-tops  burned  faintly  in  the  sunset 
glow,  and  the  sky  all  above  was  arched  with  ribs  and  bars 
of  fire.  But  the  last  tinge  was  fading  from  the  clouds,  and 
the  forests  grew  drear  and  dark,  as  Hector  and  Carnille 
approached  Mr.  Dunbury's  house. 

Mrs.  Longman  received  them  at  the  porch.  As  she  held 
Camille  in  her  arms,  Hector,  advancing  into  the  hall,  saw 
the  kitchen  door  open  beyond,  and  his  father  pacing  to  and 
fro,  with  trouble  written  in  deep  lines  upon  his  face.  The 
young  man  turned  aside,  pausing  a  moment  at  the  door  of 
his  mother's  room,  then  gently  lifted  the  latch. 

The  subdued  light  of  departing  day  stole  into  the 
chamber.  He  entered  softly,  and  moved  with  silent  steps 
to  the  bedside ;  then,  stooping  tenderly  and  reverently,  im 
printed  a  kiss  upon  his  mother's  brow. 

She  looked  up.     "  My  dear  boy  !  "     Tears  dimmed  Hec 
tor's   eyes.     He   could   not   speak.      "  And  Charlotte " 
murmured  the  invalid. 

"  She  is  here  !  "  He  reached  forth  his  hand.  Camille 
advanced.  He  led  her  to  the  bedside  ;  she  bent  down  amid 
the  hush;  her  kisses  and  tears  fell  warm  upon  the  dying 
woman's  hand. 

"  My  child  !  "  and  feebly  the  invalid  raised  both  her  arms 
to  place  about  her  form,  "  are  you  happy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  blessed  !  "  sobbed  Charlotte  upon  her  bosom. 

Another  pause  ;  the  love  and  peace  of  the  invalid's  coun 
tenance  brightening  and  deepening.  "  And  Hector  ?  " 

'•Twice  blessed!"  breathed  Hector.  "But  to  see  my 
mother  here,  so  feeble,  and  suffering  so  "  —  His  voice  was 
choked.  Camille  rose  up  gently ;  they  bowed  together  by 
the  bed. 

"  My  children,"   said  the  invalid,   as   she  looked  upon 


458  NEIGHBOR   JACKWOOD 

them,  "  this  is  all  I  have  asked  !  I  do  not  suffer  now.  My 
soul  is  full  of  peace.  I  waited  only  for  this  hour,  to  fall 
sweetly  into  the  arms  of  Heaven,  and  be  forever  at  rest. 
Raise  my  head  a  little." 

With  a  tender  touch,  Hector  lifted  her  to  an  easier  posi 
tion,  adjusting  the  pillows  beneath  her  head.  "  Always  so 
kind,  my  boy !  Give  me  a  little  water."  Camille  held 
the  glass  to  her  lips  while  she  drank.  "  The  same  gentle 
ness  and  love,  dear  one !  Yes,  Hector,  I  have  waited  but 
for  this.  Your  father  knows  I  have  not  long  to  stay ; 
and  as  he  has  seen  me,  for  these  few  days  past,  sinking  so 
rapidly,  I  have  felt  all  the  young  love  of  his  early  years 
come  back  again,  and  his  heart  has  been  strangely  soft 
ened.  He  loves  you,  Hector !  He  feels  that  he  has  been 
unjust  to  you  —  more  than  unjust  to  this  dear  one !  "  A 
choking  sensation  broke  her  utterance,  but  she  added, 
presently,  "  Will  you  not  forgive  him  ?  " 

"0  MOTHER!" 

There  was  a  footfall  upon  the  floor.  One  entered,  walk 
ing  with  careful  steps,  crushed  in  spirit,  his  form  bowed 
.as  by  a  burden,  his  chin  sunken  sorrowfully  upon  his 
breast.  The  little  group  opened.  He  drew  near  the  bed 
side,  reaching  out  his  trembling  hands.  A  painful  silence, 
then  a  quivering  voice  —  "  Hector  !  " 

The  deep  contrition  of  the  look  and  tone  ran  like  melt 
ing  fire  into  Hector's  soul. 

"  FATHER  ! "  That  one  word  expressed  all.  Their  hands 
clasped.  Forgiveness  flowed  from  heart  to  heart.  Then 
the  father,  taking  courage,  turned,  with  anguish  in  his 
looks,  and  extended  a  shaking  hand  to  Camille. 

"  My  daughter  !  " 

His  long  remorse,  his  crushed  and  penitent  pride,  and 
the  new-born  love  of  his  soul  gushing  up  through  all,  found 
utterance  in  those  half-stifled  words.  Filled  with  a  wild 
grief,  and  yet  wilder  joy  intermixed,  Camille  faltered, 
bowed  her  weeping  face,  and  sank  down  at  his  feet.  On 


CLOSING   SCENES  459 

the  instant,  as  by  quick  sympathy,  Hector  was  kneeling  by 
her  side,  one  arm  about  her  form,  and  one  hand  clasped  in 
hers.  The  father  extended  his  quivering  palms  above 
them,  while  heavy  drops  struggled  down  his  unaccustomed 
cheeks. 

"  God  bless  you  —  God  bless  you  —  my  —  children  !  " 
"  Peace  ! "    whispered    the    dying    woman,    a    smile    of 
heavenly  sweetness  lighting  all  her  face. 


THE    END. 


The  Trowbridge  Novels 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 

Eight  Volumes.     Cloth.     New  uniform  binding.    Price  $1.50  each. 

Neighbor  Jackwood.      New  Revised  Edition,  with  Autobio 
graphical  Chapter. 

"  It  sparkles  with  wit,  it  is  liquid  with  humor,  it  has  the  unmistakable 
tou  h  of  nature,  and  it  has  a  procession  of  characters  like  a  novel  of  fc>cott ; 
indeed,  in  many  ways  it  recalls  that  great  master."  —John  liurrouglis. 

Neighbor's  Wives. 

"  A  new  edition  of  one  of  the  most  successful  of  this  favorite  author  a 
books.  It  will  be  read  with  fresh  interest  by  many  who  have  welcomed  it 
in  earlier  editions,  and  to  those  who  now  give  it  their  nrst  reading  it  will 

"    lessons  that  will  live  long  in  the 


in  earlier  editions,  and  to  those  who  now  giv< 
yield  delightful  entertainment,  and  unfold  lei 
memory.'  —  Gospel  Banner. 


Coupon  Bonds. 

"  'Coupon  Bonds'  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  best  stories  ever  published 
in  this  country.  It  is  a  most  happy  and  felicitous  stroke.  It  is  brim 
ful  of  the  very  best  quality  of  humor,  — the  humor  that  grows  naturally 
out  of  the  character  and  the  situation,  and  it  moves  along  briskly,  without 
any  urging  or  pushing  by  the  author.  It  is  full  of  incident,  full  of  charac 
ter,  full  of  novel  and  ludicrous  surprises  and  situations.  —  bcribner  a 
Monthly, 
Cudjo's  Cave. 

"  This  is  one  of  Mr.  Trowbridge's  best  stories.  His  readers  are  accus 
tomed  to  plenty  of  lively  incidents  and  exciting  adventures,  and  in  this 
volume  the  supply  is  surely  abundant.  The  story  opens  with  the  struggle 
of  a  Quaker  schoolmaster  in  Tennessee  previous  to  the  opening  of  the  late 
war,  and  the  exciting  scenes  attendant  upon  the  opening  of  the  great 
struggle  between  the  North  and  South  are  portrayed  in  a  graphic  manner 
'  Cudjo's  Cave  '  is  a  book  to  make  a  favorable  impression." —  Capital. 

Three  Scouts. 

This  story  is  a  companion  to  "  Cudjo's  Cave  "  and  "  The  Drummer  Boy,** 
in  being  a  narrative  of  stormy  events  in  the  Civil  War,  when  the  army  of 
the  Cumberland,  under  Rosecrans,  and  the  Confederate  forces,  under 
Bragg,  were  battling  with  each  other  in  1862.  Yet  it  is  complete  in  itself  as 
a  story. 

The  Drummer  Boy.    Illustrated. 

The  author  of  this  book  is  so  famous  as  a  story-writer  that  another  ex 
cellent  one  is  only  what  all  his  readers  expect.  It  is  a  story  of  the  late  war, 
and  of  a  boy  who  went  into  the  army  as  a  drummer,  and  who,  from  the  good 
instructions  of  a  fond  and  noble  mother,  sought  to  impart  to  his  rude  and 
reckless  companions  some  of  the  good  of  his  own  character. 

Farnefl's  Folly. 

All  the  sterling  qualities  which  have  placed  Mr.  Trowbridge  among 
the  foremost  o*  American  novelists  are  to  be  found  in  this  new  romance. 
It  is  not  a  short  story  or  series  of  sketches  that  may  be  "  devoured  "  in  an 
hour,  but,  as  the  number  of  its  pages  testify,  a  full-blooded  romance,  alive 
with  incident,  and  overflowing  with  interest. 

Martin  Merrivale :    His  X  MARK. 

This  story  of  New  England  life  abounds  in  passages  of  rare  humor  and 
pathos.  Not  even  in  "  Coupon  Bonds  "  nor  in  "  Neighbor  Jackwood  "  hai 
Trowbndge  created  characters  better  fitted  to  give  him  enduring  fame. 
Nc  one  can  read  the  story  without  seeing  that  the  author  has  put  his  whole 
soul  in  it. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  qf  price. 

Our  Complete  Catalogue  sent  free. 

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The  Silver  Medal  Stories 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDOB 


&z  Volumes.    Cloth.    lUustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $1M 


/he  Silver  Medal,  AND  OTHEB  STOEIES. 

There  were  some  schoolboys  who  had  turned  housebreakers,  and  among 
their  plunder  was  a  silver  medal  that  had  been  given  to  one  John  Harris 
by  the  Humane  Society  for  rescuing  from  drowning  a  certain  Bei.ton 
Barry.  Now  Benton  Barry  was  one  of  the  wretched  housebreakers.  This  is 
the  summary  of  the  opening  chapter.  The  story  is  intensely  interesting  in 
its  serious  as  well  as  its  humorous  parts. 

His  Own  Master. 

"  This  is  a  book  after  the  typical  boy's  own  heart.  Its  hero  is  a  plucky 
young  fellow,  who,  seeing  no  chance  for  himself  at  home,  determines  to 
make  his  own  way  in  the  world.  ...  He  sets  out  accordingly,  trudges  to  the 
far  West,  and  finds  the  road  to  fortune  an  unpleasantly  rough  one."— Phil 
adelphia  Inquirer. 

Bound  in  Honor. 

This  story  is  of  a  lad,  who,  though  not  guilty  of  any  bad  action,  has  been 
an  eye-witness  of  the  conduct  of  his  comrades,  and  felt  "  Bound  in  Honor  " 
not  to  tell. 

"  A  capital  book  in  all  respects,  overflowing  with  all  sorts  of  fun  and 
adventure ;  just  the  sort  of  book,  in  short,  that  the  young  folks  will  be 
anxious  to  read  and  re-read  with  as  much  continuous  interest  as  the  most 
favored  of  their  storyoooks,"— Philadelphia  Leader. 

The  Pocket  Rifle. 

"A  boy's  story  which  will  be  read  with  avidity,  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  is  so 
brightly  and  frankly  written,  and  with  such  evident  knowledge  of  the  tem 
peraments  and  habits,  the  friendships  and  enmities  of  schoolboys."  —  New 
York  Mail. 

•4  This  is  a  capital  story  for  boys.  It  teaches  honesty,  integrity,  and  friend, 
ship,  and  how  best  they  can  be  promoted.  It  shows  the  danger  of  hasty 
judgment  and  circumstantial  evidence ;  that  right-doing  pays,  and  dishon 
esty  never." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

The  Jolly  Rover. 

"  This  book  will  help  to  neutralize  the  ill  effects  of  any  poison  which  chiK 
dren  may  have  swallowed  in  the  way  of  sham-adventurous  stories  and  wildly 
fictitious  tales.  *  The  Jolly  Rover  '  runs  away  from  home,  and  meets  life  as 
it  is,  till  he  is  glad  enough  to  seek  again  his  father's  house.  Mr.  Trowbridge 
has  the  power  of  making  an  instructive  story  absorbing  in  Its  interest,  and 
of  covering  a  moral  so  that  it  is  easy  to  take." — Christian  Intelligencer. 

Noting  Joe,  AND  OTHER  BOYS. 

"  Young  Joe,"  who  lived  at  Bass  Cove,  where  he  shot  wild  ducks,  took 
gome  to  town  for  sale,  and  attracted  the  attention  of  a  portly  gentleman 
fond  of  shooting.  Th/s  gentleman  went  duck  shooting  with  Joe,  and  their 
adventures  were  more  amusing  to  the  boy  than  to  the  amateur  sportsman. 

There  are  thirteen  other  abort  stories  in  the  book  which  will  be  sure  to 
please  the  young  folks. 


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The  Tide-Mill  Stories 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDQB 

8to  Volumes     Cloth.    Illustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $125 


Phil  and  His  Friends. 

The  her*  is  the  son  of  a  man  who  from  drink  got  Into  debt,  and,  after  hav 
ing  giveu  a  paper  to  a  creditor  authorizing  him  to  keep  the  son  as  a  se 
curity  for  his  claim,  ran  away,  leaving  poor  Phil  a  bond  slave.  The  story 
involves  a  great  many  unexpected  incidents,  some  of  which  are  paiiitul  and 
some  comic.  Phil  manfully  works  for  a  year  cancelling  his  father's  debt, 
and  then  escapes.  The  characters  are  strongly  drawn,  and  the  story  is  ab 
sorbingly  interesting. 

The  Tinkham  Brothers'  Tide-Mill. 

" «  The  Tinkham  Brothers  '  were  the  devoted  sons  of  an  invalid  mother.  The 
story  tells  how  they  purchased  a  tide-mill,  which  afterwards,  by  the  ill-will 
and  obstinacy  of  neighbors,  became  a  source  of  much  trouble  to  them.  It 
tells  also  how,  by  discretion  and  the  exercise  of  a  peaceable  spirit,  they  at 
last  overoume  all  difficulties."  —  Christian  Observer,  Louisville,  Ky. 

The  Satin-wood  Box. 

"  Mr.  Trowbridge  has  always  a  purpose  in  his  writings,  and  this  time  he 

has  undertaken  to  show  how  very  near  an  innocent  boy  can  come  to  the 
guilty  edge  and  yet  be  able  by  fortunate  circumstances  to  rid  himself  of  all 
suspicion  of  evil.  There  is  something  winsome  about  the  hero  ;  but  he  has 
a  singular  way  of  falling  into  bad  luck,  although  the  careful  reader  will 
never  feel  the  least  disposed  to  doubt  his  honesty."  —  Syracuse  Standard. 

The  Little  Master. 

final 
,  and 
the 

charm  whicn  is  always  found  in  Mr.  Trowbridge's  works. 

«'  Many  a  teacher  could  profit  by  reading  of  thia  plucky  little  school 
master."  — Journal  of  Education. 

His  One  Fault. 

*'  As  for  the  hero  of  this  story «  His  One  Fanlt'vras  absent-mindedness. 

He  forgot  to  lock  his  uncle's  stable  door,  and  the  horse  was  stolen.  In 
seeking  to  recover  the  stolen  horse,  he  unintentionally  stole  another.  In 
trying  to  restore  the  wrong  horse  to  his  rightful  owner,  he  was  himself  ar 
rested.  After  no  end  of  comic  and  dolorous  adventures,  he  surmounted  all 
his  misfortunes  by  downright  pluck  and  genuine  good  feeling.  It  is  a  noble 
contribution  to  juvenile  literature."  —  Woman's  Journal. 

Peter  Budstone. 

"  Mr.  J.  T.  Trowbridge's ' Peter  Budstone'  Is  another  of  those  altogether 
good  and  wholesome  books  for  boys  of  which  it  is  hardly  possible  to  speak  too 
highly.  This  author  shows  us  convincingly  how  juvenile  reading  may  be 
made  vivacious  and  interesting,  and  yet  teach  sound  and  clean  lessons. 
'Peter  Budstone '  shows  forcibly  the  folly  and  crime  of  '  hazing.'  It  is  the 
story  of  a  noble  young  fellow  whose  reason  is  irreparably  overthrown  by 
the  savage  treatment  he  received  from  some  of  his  associates  at  college. 
It  is  a  powerful  little  book,  and  we  wish  every  schoolboy  and  college  youth 
could  read  it."— Philadelphia  American. 


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THE    START    IN    LIFE    SERIES 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGB 

Cloth    Illustrated    Price  per  volume,  $1.00 

A  Start  in  Life  :  A  STORY  OF  THB 

GENESEE  COUNTRY. 

In  this  story  the  author  recounts  the  hard 
ships  of  a  young  lad  in  his  first  endeavor  to 
start  out  for  himself.  It  is  a  tale  that  is  full 
of  enthusiasm  and  budding  hopes. 

Biding  His  Time. 

"It  is  full  of  spirit  and  adventure,  and 
presents  a  plucky  hero  who  was  willing  to 
'bide  his  time,'  no  matter  how  great  the 
expectations  that  he  indulged  in  from  his 
uncle's  vast  wealth,  which  he  did  not  in  the 
least  covet."  —  Boston  Home  Journal. 

The  Kelp-  GdtherefS  *  A  STORY  OF  THE  MAINE  COAST. 

A  bright  and  readable  story,  with  all  the  hints  of  character  and  the 
vicissitudes  of  human  life,  in  depicting  which  the  author  is  an  acknowl 
edged  master. 

The  Scarlet  Tanager,  AND  OTHER  BIPEDS. 

Every  new  story  which  Mr.  Trowbridge  begins  is  followed  through 
successive  chapters  by  thousands  who  have  read  and  re-read  many  times 
his  preceding  tales.  One  of  his  greatest  charms  is  his  absolute  truthful* 
ness.  He  does  not  depict  little  saints,  or  incorrigible  rascals,  but  justly*. 


The  Lottery  Ticket. 


"  This  is  one  of  the  many  popular  stories  written  by  this  well-known 
author,  whose  name  on  the  title-page  of  a  book  makes  it  a  welcome  arrival 
to  most  of  the  young  people  who  read.  The  moral  is  always  good,  the 
influence  in  the  right  direction,  and  the  characters  so  portrayed  that  the 
right  is  always  rewarded  and  the  wrong  fails  to  prosper."  —  Dubuque, 
Iowa,  Herald. 

The  Adventures  of  David  Vane  and  David  Crane, 

A  strong,  homely,  humorous  story  of  the  everyday  life  of  American 
country -bred  boys,  by  one  who  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  best  living  storj  • 
teller  in  his  peculiar  vein. 

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THE  TOBY  TRAFFORD  SERIES 

BY 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDQE 

Three  Volumes.   .    .     Cloth.    .    .    Illustrated 
Price  per  volume $1.25 


The  Fortunes  of  Toby  Trafford. 

"A  new  story  by  J.  T.  Trowbridge,  is,  like  all  Mr.  Trowbridge's  fiction,  the 
good  wine  that  needs  no  bush.  The  plot  is  full  of  interest,  and  is  still  so 
natural  that  it  all  might  happen  in  a  thousand  places.  Its  scenes  and  its 
people  are  everywhere ;  only  few  writers  have  Trowbridge's  eyes  to  see 
them.  The  hero  is  not  an  impossibly  good  boy,  but  he  has  manly  instincts  ; 
and  he  is  kept  from  follies  and  mistakes  by  the  counsels  of  an  excellent 
mother,  and  of  his  wise  and  noble-hearted  schoolmaster.  Boys  will  follow 
his  career  and  his  good  and  bad  fortune  with  genuiae  interest."—  Boston. 
Budget. 

Father  Brighthopes  ;  AN  OLD  CLERGYMAN'S  VACATION. 

"  To  the  many  friends  which  this  book  will  doubtless  gain  it  may  be  well 
to  say  that  Father  Brighthopes  of  the  story  gains  that  cheery  name  by  his 
readiness  to  always  see  the  bright  and  not  the  dark  side  of  any  difficulty, 
great  or  small.  The  few  weeks  which  he  spent  with  his  friends,  the  Roy- 
dons,  wrought  a  change  in  their  daily  life  as  marked  as  it  was  pleasant.  The 
writings  of  Trowbridge  are  too  well  known  to  require  comment,  since  almost 
everyone  is  familiar  with  his  straightforward,  simple  style,  underlying 
which  there  is  not  a  little  humor  as  well  as  pathos." — Chicago  Times. 

Woodie  Thorpe's  Pilgrimage,  AND  OTIIER  STORIES. 

"The  scenes  are  full  of  human  interest  and  lifelikeness,  and  will  please 
many  an  old  reader,  as  well  as  the  younger  folks,  for  whose  delectation  it  is 
Intended.  As  in  all  the  books  of  this  author  the  spirit  is  manly,  sincere, 
and  in  the  best  sense  moral.  There  is  no  "goody"  talk  and  no  cant,  but 
principles  of  truthfulness,  integrity,  and  self-reliance  are  quietly  inculcated 
by  example.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  any  boy  will  be  the  better  for  reading 
books  like  this."— St.  Botolph. 


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THE  BOY  CRAFTSMAN 


THE 

BOY 

CfcAFTS 

MAN 


Practical  and  Profitable  Ideas  for  a  Boy's 

Leisure  Hours 

By  A.  NEELY  HALL 

Illustrated    with    over    400    diagrams     and 
working  drawings     8vo     Price,  $2.00 

IT*  VERY  real  boy  wishes  to  design  and  make 
*-~*  things,  but  the  questions  of  materials  and 
tools  are  often  hard  to  get  around.  Nearly  all 
books  on  the  subject  call  for  a  greater  outlay  of 
money  than  is  within  the  means  of  many  boys, 
or  their  parents  wish  to  expend  in  such  ways. 
In  this  book  a  number  of  chapters  give  sugges 
tions  for  carrying  on  a  small  business  that  will 
bring  a  boy  in  money  with  which  to  buy  tools 
and  materials  necessary  for  making  apparatus 
and  articles  described  in  other  chapters,  while 
the  ideas  are  so  practical  that  many  an  indus 
trious  boy  can  learn  what  he  is  best  fitted  for  in  his  life  work.  No  work 
of  its  class  is  so  completely  up-to-date  or  so  worthy  in  point  of  thorough 
ness  and  avoidance  of  danger.  The  drawings  are  profuse  and  excellent, 
and  every  feature  of  the  book  is  first-class.  It  tells  how  to  make  a  boy's 
workshop,  how  to  handle  tools,  and  what  can  be  made  with  them;  how 
to  start  a  printing  shop  and  conduct  an  amateur  newspaper,  how  to 
make  photographs,  build  a  log  cabin,  a  canvas  canoe,  a  gymnasium,  a 
miniature  theatre,  and  many  other  things  dear  to  the  soul  of  youth. 

We  cannot  imagine  a  more  delightful  present  for  a  boy  than  this  book.— 
Churchman,  N.T. 

Every  boy  should  have  this  book.  It's  a  practical  book  —  it  gets  right  next  to 
the  boy's  heart  and  stays  there.  He  will  have  it  near  him  all  the  time,  and  on  every 
page  there  is  a  lesson  or  something  that  will  stand  the  boy  in  good  need.  Beyond 
a  doubt  in  its  line  this  is  one  of  the  cleverest  books  on  the  market.  —  Providence 
News. 

If  a  boy  has  any  sort  of  a  mechanical  turn  of  mind,  his  parents  should  see  that 
he  has  this  book.  —  Boston  Journal. 

This  is  a  book  that  will  do  boys  good.  —  Buffalo  Express. 

The  boy  who  will  not  find  this  book  a  mine  of  joy  and  profit  must  be  queerlv 
constituted.  —  Pittsburgh  Gazette. 

Will  be  a  delight  to  the  boy  mechanic.  —  Watchman ,  Boston. 

An  admirable  book  to  give  a  boy.  —  Newark  News. 

This  book  is  the  best  yet  offered  for  its  large  number  of  practical  and  profitable 
ideas.  —  Milwaukee  Free  Press. 

Parents  ought  to  know  of  this  book.  —  New  Tork  Globe. 


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THE  BOY  COURIER  OF 
NAPOLEON 


Making    of     Our    Nation     Series 

By  WILLIAM  C.  SPRAQUE 

Large  I2mo,  Cloth  Illustrated  by  A.   B.   Shute 

Price  per  volume,  $1.50 

The   Boy   Courier   of  Napoleon 

A  Story  of   the   Louisiana  Purchase 

WILLIAM  C.  SPRAGUE,  the  notably  suc 
cessful  editor  of  "  The  American  Boy," 
has  given  for  the  first  time  the  history 
of  the  Louisiana  Purchase  in  entertaining  story 
form.  The  hero  is  introduced  as  a  French 
drummer  boy  in  the  great  battle  of  Hohenlinden. 
He  serves  as  a  valet  to  Napoleon  and  later  is 
sent  with  secret  messages  to  the  French  in  San 
Domingo  and  in  Louisiana.  After  exciting  ad 
ventures  he  accomplishes  his  mission  and  is 
present  at  the  lowering  of  the  Spanish  flag,  and 
later  at  that  of  the  French  and  the  raising  oi 
the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

"All  boys  and  girls  of  our  country  who  read  this  book  will  be  delighted  with  it, 
as  well  as'benefited  by  the  historical  knowledge  contained  in  its  pages." — Louis 
ville,  Jt_y.t  Times. 

"An  excellent  book  for  boys,  containing  just  enough  history  to  make  them  hunger 
for  more.  No  praise  of  this  book  can  be  too  high." — Town  Topics,  Cleveland,  O. 

"This  book  is  one  to  fascinate  every  intelligent  American  boy." — Buffalo  Times. 

The   Boy   Pathfinder 

A  Story  oi  the  Oregon  Trail 

THIS  book  has  as  its  hero  an  actual  character, 
George  Shannon,  a  Pennsylvania  lad,  who 
at  seventeen  left  school  to  become  one  of 
the  Lewis  and  Clark  expedition.     He  had  nar 
row  escapes,  but  persevered,  and  the  story  of 
his  wanderings,  interwoven  with  excellent  his 
torical  information,  makes  the  highest  type  of 
general  reading  for  the  young. 

"It  is  a  thoroughly  good  story,  full  of  action  and 
adventure  and  at  the  same  time  carrying  a  bit  of  real 
history  accurately  recorded." — Universalist  Leader, 

Tlnstn-n 


Boston. 

"It  is  an  excellent  book  for  a  boy  to  read."— New 
ark,  IV.  J.,  Advertiser, 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of 
price  by  the  publishers 

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Raymond  Benson  Series 

By  CLARENCE  B.  BURLEIQH 

Illustrated   by   L.   J.    Bridgman  Large    I2mo,    Cloth 

$1.50   per  volume 

The  Camp  on   Letter   K 

HPHE  story  deals  with  two  active  boys  in  Aroostook  County  close  to  the 
*•  northeastern  boundary  of  our  country,  and  where  smuggling  across 
the  Canadian  line  has  been  prevalent.  Equally  ready  in  athletics,  hunting, 
or  helping  their  families  on  the  rich  farms  of  that  section,  these  good 
chums  have  many  exciting  adventures,  the  most  important  of  which 
directly  concerns  the  leading  smugglers  of  the  district,  and  an  important 
public  service  is  rendered  by  the  boys. 

"There  is  an  atmosphere  about  the  whole  book  that  is  attractive  to  boys,  and  it 
will  be  read  by  them  with  enthusiastic  delight."  —  Democrat  and  Chronicle^ 
Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Raymond  Benson  at  Krampton 

RAYMOND  BENSON  and  his  friend,  Ned  Grover,  go  to  Krampton 
Academy,  which  is  no  other  than  the  noted  school  at  New 
Hampton,  N.  H.,  where  Mr.  Burleigh  was  fitted  for  college.  We  have 
had  good  books  telling  of  the  larger  and  more  aristocratic  preparatory 
schools,  but  never  before  one  that  so  well  told  of  life  at  a  typical  country 
academy  of  the  sort  that  have  furnished  the  inspiration  for  so  many 
successful  men. 

"  It  is  interesting  from  start  to  finish,  and  while  rousing  and  full  of  enthusiasm, 
is  wholesome  in  spirit,  and  teaches  lessons  of  purity  and  iustice  and  manliness  in 
real  life."  —  Herald  &  Presbyter. 

The  Kenton  Pines 

«t£ENTON  COLLEGE"  is  Bowdoin 
College,  beautiful  in  its  location  and 
famous  in  its  history.  Raymond's  athletic 
abilities  insure  him  immediate  and  enduring 
prominence  as  a  student,  and  the  accounts  of 
athletic  contests  will  stir  the  blood  of  any 
one.  But  the  book  is  far  more  than  a  tale  of 
these  things;  it  is  a  wonderful  picture  of  life 
at  a  smaller  college,  with  all  its  fine  hard 
work,  "grinds,"  and  triumphs.  It  is  a  book 
that  rings  true  on  every  manly  question. 

"This  book,  like  the  other  of  the  series,  is  of  a  very  high  character,  and  should 
i  an  inspiration  to  all  boys  contemplating;  a  college  career."  —  Interior. 


be  an  inspi 


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BOOKS    BV   FVERETT  T.  TOMLINSON. 


THE  WAR  OF   1812  SERIES 


Six  volumes    Cloth    Illustrated  by  A.  B. 
Shute    Price  per  volume  reduced  to  $1.25 

No  American  writer  for  boys  has  ever  occupied 
a  higher  position  than  Dr.  Tomlinson,  and  the 
"War  of  1812  Series"  covers  a  held  attempted 
by  no  other  juvenile  literature  in  a  manner  that 
has  secured  continued  popularity. 

The  Search  for  Andrew  Field 
The  Boy  Soldiers  of  1812 
The  Boy  Officers  of  1812 
Tecumseh's  Young  Braved 
Guarding  the  Border 
The  Boys  with  Old  Hickory 


EVERETT-  T-TOMLINSON 


ST.  LAWRENCE  SERIES 

CRUISING    IN  THE   ST.    LAWRENCE 

Being  the  third  volume  of  the  "St.  Lawrence  Series"     Cloth 

Illustrated    Price  $1.50 

Our  old  friends,  "  Bob,"  "  Ben,"  "  Jock,"  and  "  Bert,"  having  completed 
their  sophomore  year  at  college,  plan  to  spend  the  summer  vacation  cruising 
on  the  noble  St.  Lawrence.  Here  they  not  only  visit  places  of  historic  inter 
est,  but  also  the  Indian  tribes  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  rive/,  and  learr 
from  them  their  customs,  habits,  and  quaint  legends. 

PREVIOUS   VOLUMES 

CAMPING  ON  THE   ST.    LAWRENCE 

Or,  On  the  Trail  of  the  Early  Discoverers 

Clctt    Illustrated    $1.50 

fHE  HOUSE-BOAT  ON  THE  ST.   LAWRENCE 

Or,  Following  Frontenac 
Ctotfc    Illustrated    $1.50 

BY  THE  SAMB  AUTHOR 

STORIES  OF  THE  AMERICAN    REVOLUTION 
First  and  Second  Series    Cloth    Illustrated   £1.00  each 


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PIGEON  CAMP  SERIES 

By   MARTHA  JAMES 

Illustrated      Cloth      Large  I2mo      $1.25 


JIMMIE  SUTER 

JIMMIE  SUTER  is  a  sturdy,  active,  honest 
boy,  whose  father  and  mother  are  very 
worthy  people  in  moderate  circumstances. 
What  Jimmie  lacks  in  pocket  money,  however, 
he  more  than  makes  up  in  mechanical  inge 
nuity  and  other  good  qualities,  and  his  best  boy 
friend  is  the  son  of  a  rich  man,  but  not  spoiled 
by  the  fact.  They  have  royal  times  making  and 
sailing  an  ice-boat  and  doing  many  other  things, 
and  best  of  all  they  organize  the  "  S.  F.  B.,"  or  Society  for  Feeding 
Birds,  which  spreads  far  and  wide  and  is  productive  of  most  enjoyable 
acquaintances  besides  doing  good  service  in  the  cause  for  which  it  was 
intended.  Deeds  of  kindness  to  a  queer  old  neighbor  bring  an  unex 
pected  reward,  and  the  bright,  wholesome  book  ends  in  a  most  pleasing 
manner. 

"  Martha  James  seems  to  have  a  good  kind  of  insight  for  this  juvenile 
literature,  and  in  the  course  of  an  interesting  story  drops  many  valuable 
suggestions  about  the  employment  of  a  boy's  time  and  his  habits  of  life 
outside  of  school." — Syracuse  Herald. 

"In  his  kindness  and  thoughtfulness  for  both  men  and  animals, 
Jimmie  is  an  ideal  boy." — The  Watchman,  Boston. 

"The  happy,  wholesome  book  closes  in  a  thoroughly  satisfactory 
way . " —  Chicago  Inter-  Ocean. 

"The  tone  is  simple  and  healthy,  and  the  book  will  no  doubt  find 
many  young  readers." — The  Churchman,  Milwaukee. 


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W.  0.  STODDARD'S  BOOKS 

12mo    Cloth    Price  per  volume,  $1.25 

DAN  MONROE  :  A  Story  of  Bunker  Hill  Illustrated  by  W.  F.  Kennedy 
In  this  volume  the  hero  is  one  whose  name  is  found  in  several  trust 
worthy  records  as  the  drummer  boy  of  the  Lexington  militia,  his  closest 
friend,  Nat  Harrington,  being  the  fifer.  The  Concord  fight,  the  Battle  of 
Bunker  Hill,  and  the  arrival  of  Washington  are  introduced  as  parts  of  a 
carefully  preserved  historical  outline. 
LONG  BRIDGE  BOYS  Illustrated  by  I.  B.  Hazelton 

It  tells  the  story  of  an  actual  attempt  made  by  the  Confederates  of  Vir 
ginia,  just  prior  to  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,  to  seize  the  city  of 
Washington  by  force  of  arms,  and  make  prisoners  of  President  Lincoln 
and  other  high  government  officials. 

AHEAD  OF  THE  ARMY    Illustrated  by  C.  Chase  Emerson 

This  is  a  lively  narrative  of  the  experiences  of  an  American  boy  who 
arrives  in  Mexico  as  the  war  with  the  United  States  is  beginning. 

THE    ERRAND    BOY    OF    ANDREW    JACKSON :      A  War  Story  of 

1813     Illustrated  by  Will  Crawford 

This  tale  is  of  the  War  of  1812,  and  describes  the  events  of  the  only  land 
campaign  of  1812-1814  in  which  the  Americans  were  entirely  successful. 

JACK  MORGAN:     A  Boy  of  1812     Illustrated  by  Will  Crawford 

It  is  the  adventures  of  a  boy  of  the  frontier  during  the  great  fight  that  Har* 
rison  made  on  land,  and  Perry  on  the  lakes  for  the  security  of  the  border. 

THE    NOANK'S    LOG :     A  Privateer  of  the  Revolution      Illustrated  by 
Will  Crawford 

The  further  adventures  of  the  plucky  Guert  Ten  Eyck,  as  he  fought 
King  George  on  land  and  sea. 

THE  DESPATCH   BOAT  OF  THE  WHISTLE  :    A  Storj  of  Santiago 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill 

A  breezy  story  of  a  newspaper  despatch  boat,  in  the  war  with  Spain. 
GUERT  TEN  EYCK    Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill 

A  hero  story  of  real  American  girls  and  boys,  in  the  America  Revolution. 
THE  PARTNERS  Illustrated  by  Albert  Scott  Cox 

A  capital  story  of  a  bright,  go-ahead  country  girl  and  t  o  boy§  who 
helped  her  keep  store. 

CHUCK  PURDY :    A  New  York  Boy    Illustrated 

A  delightful  story  of  boy  life  in  New  York  Gty. 
GID  GRANGER:    A 'Country  Boy    Illustrated 

A  capital  story  of  American  life. 


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